DOMINATING HIS FOES

Asher walked up the apartment stairs, with his heart heavy with rejections and his mind racing with several thoughts. His shoulders sagged under the weight of another failed interview, making it the tenth time in a row.

“You’re a great candidate but I am sorry, we have decided to move forward with someone else.” The words of the manager still playing freely in his head.

He clenched his fist, with his face burning with anger. The moment he got to the entrance, Asher drew a deep breath as he reached the door of his in-laws’ apartment, where he had lived for three years. He stepped inside and was welcomed with laughter that echoed through the room.

The sound hit him like a slap; he paused, staring at his wife, Emily, and his stomach twisted as he stepped into the living room.

Emily was seated on the couch with a bottle of champagne in one hand, her mother, Mrs. Deborah, seated beside her, sipping from the glass. Both smiling and chatting as if they had won a lottery.

Their faces lit up in mockery when they spotted Asher; Emily took a sip, gulping its contents before turning to face her husband.

“Asher,” she called, as her lips curled into a smile. “You’re back early. Let’s guess, you got rejected again.” They both burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Asher’s fingers curled into a fist. As his knuckles turned white and his jaw tightened.

“Well, dear, it’s obvious that you can’t blame them. No company wants a man who has no value.” She taunted.

Asher gritted his teeth, “It’s just a matter of time; I will soon get a good job.” He refused to let their words cut him.

Emily took a slow sip of her drink and then tilted her head at him, “You came right on time, Today isn’t about you, but it’s about me.” She lifted the champagne bottle. “I got promoted.”

Mrs. Deborah clapped her hands in delight. “Congratulations, my dear. You aren’t like some people who always return home with sad news.”

Asher glared at her, then switched his gaze to Emily’s to decipher what she had to spew next.

Emily’s smile sharpened into something cruel. “Isn’t it funny? While you are failing to get a job. I am rising higher; we aren’t on the same level anymore.”

Asher’s fist clenched at his sides, his body stiff. “Emily,” he said with gritted teeth. “Do you remember how you got that job?” his voice was steady despite the storm raging inside of him.

Emily rolled her eyes at him, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, please. Don’t start with that nonsense.”

“Nonsense,” Asher took a few steps forward. His eyes burned with betrayal. His glare was icy, his expression unreadable, but the dangerous edge in his tone was unmistakable.

“Three years ago. You were unemployed. No experience, no connection, who pulled strings to get you an interview, who coached you through it?”

Seems she had forgotten how it happened!

Mrs. Deborah scoffed, sipping her wine. “Oh, spare us the pitiful speech. My daughter has talent. That’s why she is successful, unlike you.”

Emily leaned forward, placing the champagne bottle on the table. “I am not a failure like you, and I refused to be dragged down by a man who can’t even provide for himself or his family. Just take a good look at yourself,”

Asher’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths; he had sacrificed so much for this marriage, his time, energy, and pride, only to be repaid like this. He has endured all the humiliation from them, but those words from his wife were like sharp blades that pierced his heart into a million pieces.

They both chuckled, taking a sip from their champagne.

“You mean to tell me,” he said, his voice low, “that after everything I’ve done for you, after three years of marriage, you’re ready to throw it away just because you got promoted and I couldn’t get a job.”

Emily exhales dramatically, “Yes, Asher. I am. And I want a divorce.”

Asher felt his heart stop for a moment as he glanced at the face before him. “A divorce? Why?”

Mrs. Deborah smiled in satisfaction as a mixed feeling engulfed her heart, she had been waiting for this moment. “I am happy you have realized yourself. He is always beneath you and always will.”

“You can’t seems to find yourself a job and I am tired of these marriage. Can’t you read the writing on the wall, I am far better than you. I have a job, got promoted, while all you do is come back home with excuses of been rejected. You can’t even afford a shirt, I pay the bills.” She sneered.

Asher let out a bitter laugh, “Wow. So this is what it comes down to? Money and status?’

“You can call it whatever you want for all I care. I just know I deserve better.” She shoved out a file from her designer’s bag that was on the table, placing it before Asher.

Silence hung between them; Asher looked at them. He could tell they wanted him out of their lives. He looked at the apartment and then at Emily, searching for any trace of the woman he had fallen in love with. But she was gone. She was now greedy and arrogant.

Something inside him snapped.

He took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Fine, you want a divorce? You will get it.” He pulled out a pen by the side of the table, and without hesitation, he appended his signature in the designated space.

Mrs. Deborah took a sip, as a small smile curled at the side of her lips. While Emily felt a whirlwind of emotions.

“I will get my things,” he said, walking toward the room.

A few minutes later, he was ready to leave the house; he paused, turning his gaze towards them. “Enjoy your promotion while it lasts.”

“Ignore him, he is just bitter that you dumped him.” Mrs. Deborah blurted out in disdain.

Asher turned and walked out the door. On his way out, he pulled out the velvet box containing a necklace. He had gotten for his wife but had never gotten to give her. He was looking at the necklace when a male voice spoke out.

“The toy boy is finally leaving.”

Asher looked up, his expression darkened, and his hand curled into a fist.