My wife left me for her 28-year-old kickboxing instructor, then challenged me to fight for my half of our Kertati kara home.

“The guy who fought?”

“No.

I looked at the gym.

“The guy who couldn’t turn it off.”

Claire started crying.

“I thought you were distant because you didn’t love me.”

“I was distant because I was trying to become someone you could love.”

She looked down.

“I was wrong.”

“Yes.

Behind us, the gym door opened.

Derek's out.

It seemed exhausted.

He was no longer smiling.

“I’ll pay you.

I turned.

“What?”

“Your half.

He put his hand in his pocket.

“I will have my accountant contact his lawyer.”

I nodded.

“Good.”

Derek looked at me.

“I thought you were a weak guy.”

“I know.

He swallowed.

“I was wrong.”

I didn't insult him.

Not
It threatened.
I just said, “Don’t build your life to prove you’re harder than everyone else.”

Then I walked away.

Claire was left behind.

She called my name one last time.

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