It had been three years since I married Anthony Bartlett. After a difficult labor that lasted a whole day and night, I finally gave birth to our daughter. But when Anthony took the baby from the nurse, he named her Bonnie Bartlett. I stiffened on the delivery bed. I knew that Anthony’s ex-girlfriend was named Barbara Dorsey. During my postpartum recovery, I received a video. In it, a drunk Anthony complained to his ex about my body, about how I had changed, and about the unpleasant smell of breast milk. He said that while he married me, his heart would always belong to her. I looked at my daughter’s peaceful sleeping face in her swaddling blanket, and Anthony had no idea that this time, I was done. I didn’t want him or his love anymore. ***** It was the fifteenth day after I gave birth. Anthony hadn’t come back once. It all started when I fought desperately on the delivery bed to stop Anthony from naming our daughter Bonnie. He looked at me in disappointment and said, “It is just a name. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” But I couldn’t accept it. Why should I? Why did Anthony think he could name our daughter after the woman he still longed for? Even though I nearly bled to death on that bed because of the stress, Anthony still went ahead and registered our daughter under the name Bonnie Bartlett while I was being rushed into ICU for emergency care. I was left alone at home, holding our daughter in her swaddling blanket. Barbara had once said that postpartum recovery wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be. Her friend had managed just fine looking after her own child on her own. So, Anthony thought it was fine to refuse to hire a postpartum nurse for me. “Nina, my Nina,” I whispered softly, calling my daughter by the nickname I had chosen for her. I tried to feed her, but because of everything that had happened, I had no milk left. Nina cried loudly from hunger. At that moment, I couldn’t hold back any longer and broke down, crying along with her. Anthony and I had met when we were both volunteering at an orphanage. From the moment he saw me, he started pursuing me. But no matter how kind he was, I never felt anything for him. It wasn’t until the time when I was harassed by some thugs because of work and Anthony risked his life to protect me that I slowly started to accept him. I was an orphan. Anthony made me feel what it was like to be loved and cared for. He told me he loved my kindness the most. But after we married, I realized that the reason Anthony had pursued me wasn’t because of who I was. It was because my eyes looked really like Barbara’s. How laughable. Both I and our daughter had become tools for Anthony to miss Barbara. Anthony and Barbara had been college sweethearts. But when they were about to get married, Barbara left him to pursue opportunities abroad. To my surprise, not only did Anthony not hate her, but he continued to cherish her as his true love, the perfect love he could never forget. I heard footsteps at the door, and the door opened. It was Anthony coming back. I was about to call out for help when my arms, sore from holding Nina day and night for the past two weeks, finally gave in. My body ached all over, and my eyes were red from exhaustion. I was barely holding it together. “Anthony, Nina… she…” Anthony frowned. “What Nina? I told you already her name is Bonnie Bartlett. I really don’t get it. Why are you so petty over a name?” “Look at this place, it’s a mess. And Bonnie’s crying. Don’t you know how to take care of her?” My eyes filled with tears. I wanted to argue with him. But I had barely eaten anything nutritious in days, and I was completely drained. “I don’t have milk. Could you please make some soup for me?” I weakly pleaded. Anthony’s parents had never cared about me because I was an orphan, and since I had only given birth to a daughter, they never even bothered to visit. They hadn’t come to see Nina once. I thought that by asking Anthony for help, he would remember his responsibilities as a father and stay to take care of our child.
Anthony frowned in irritation. “Didn’t you bring this on yourself? And it’s just soup. You could have made it yourself.” Without waiting for me to say anything, Anthony turned and walked out. “Anthony.” I shouted his name, but all I heard in response was the loud slam of the door. Anthony was gone. I held my daughter tightly in my arms, suddenly remembering what Anthony had said when we were deeply in love, that for the rest of our lives, he would do everything in his power to make sure I never shed a tear. I had always been afraid of loneliness. When Anthony proposed, he promised to give me a home so that I would never be alone again. But now, the sound of my daughter crying made me anxious. At that moment, I felt lost, and a bitter thought crossed my mind, “What does marriage really bring to a woman? Is this really the home I’ve always dreamed of?” I had no choice but to order takeout, asking for formula and soup. When the delivery arrived, I dragged my aching body to get it, but as I was preparing the formula for my daughter in the room, I saw a post from Barbara on Twitter. [Thanks to my knight for spending two hours making this soup just for me.] In the photo, Anthony wore an apron, looking at Barbara with a tenderness he had never shown me. I suddenly felt pathetic and foolish. The cries of Nina, hungry and helpless, and my own struggles with postpartum recovery, Anthony ignored them all. He didn’t care that I barely survived after being rushed into ICU, and he couldn’t even be bothered to make me a simple bowl of soup, yet he was willing to cook for Barbara, healthy and well. It made sense, though. From the start, I was nothing more than a stand-in for Anthony. He didn’t love me. And naturally, he didn’t love our daughter either. I finished making the formula for my daughter and then forced myself to drink the soup, but tears still dropped into it, one after another. I still made myself drink it. I knew I couldn’t break down. Since Anthony, as Nina’s father, didn’t love her, I had to love her enough for both of us. That night, after finally managing to get Nina to sleep, I received a video from an anonymous number. I clicked on it. The video showed Anthony, drunk, holding Barbara while complaining about me. “Diane Heath is useless. She can’t manage anything. She just lets Bonnie cry, and her body’s gotten out of shape. She doesn’t even care to manage it. And don’t get me started on the horrible smell of milk stains on her when I get close. “I really regret choosing her. “If I hadn’t felt sorry for her being an orphan, I never would’ve married her. She’s ungrateful, and now she’s making such a scene.” When I heard Anthony say that, my blood seemed to freeze. He actually disliked me because I was an orphan. But when we first met, I had never hidden that I was an orphan. I thought, “Yes, I am an orphan. But I’ve never given up on myself, never wallowed in self-pity. After growing up, I became an executive in a company because of my excellent grades and work skills.” I didn’t need Anthony to survive. I was doing just fine on my own. I looked down at my stomach, which still had some extra fat. Anthony was right. My body had changed, but I had just given birth to our daughter. I hadn’t even started postpartum recovery yet. Did he expect me to lose weight by risking my life? I didn’t understand how everything had turned out this way. It was Anthony who had forced me to quit my high-paying executive job when he found out I was pregnant, promising to care for me and the child for the rest of our lives. In the video, Anthony held Barbara even tighter. He said his heart would always belong to her and that he only stayed with me out of a sense of responsibility. I nearly collapsed as I watched the video, but I covered my mouth to stifle the sobs, not wanting to wake Nina. [Diane, I suggest you let me know when to quit. If it weren’t for the fact that you look like me, Anthony would never have even looked at you.] I knew it was Barbara’s provocation.
The next day, Anthony finally returned, but he brought Barbara with him. As soon as Barbara stepped through the door, she shot me a disdainful look. However, in front of Anthony, she continued to pretend to be friendly toward me. “Bonnie, come let me hug you.” She called Nina’s name, but her gaze was full of longing as she looked at Anthony. I held Nina tightly, giving her a cold stare. Barbara pretended to get teary-eyed as if she were hurt. “Anthony, I think Diane doesn’t like me. If you want, I can just leave right now.” Anthony, naturally, couldn’t stand seeing Barbara upset. He glared at me in disapproval. “Diane, how can you be so unreasonable? Don’t you know that Barbara brought a ton of gifts just to see you today? “You don’t even know how to say thank you, and now you’re making a scene.” I looked at Anthony sadly. “Why should I thank her? Should I thank her for abandoning you to go abroad? Or thank her for trying to ruin our marriage after you got married and had a child?” “Diane, you’ve got it all wrong. I’ve already cleared things up with Anthony.” At the mention of the past, Barbara ran out of the room crying. Anthony tried to follow, but I stopped him with a sharp voice. “Anthony, I just want to ask you one thing. When you decided to marry me, was it because I looked like Barbara, or did you actually love me, even just a little? “If you love me, then don’t leave. Stay here with me and Nina, okay? She’s still so small, and she needs you.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I set aside my pride and pleaded with him. I begged for just a shred of love from Anthony. “I do love you…” Anthony hesitated, his eyes clouded with doubt. He had intended to stay, but when he saw a message from Barbara hinting at something like suicide, he became anxious instantly. His gaze toward me turned full of contempt. “Diane, this is all your fault. If something happens to Barbara, I swear I won’t let you off the hook.” Without another word, Anthony turned and walked away. The house was left in silence, just me and Nina. In the middle of the night, I was half awake when I suddenly smelled a strong, choking odor of smoke. Nina started crying as well. That was when I realized something was wrong. I grabbed Nina and tried to open the door, but I found the doorknob burning hot. I remembered some fire safety tips I’d learned on social media and immediately realized the fire had already reached outside our door. After calling 911, I instinctively dialed Anthony for help. But after several calls, he still didn’t answer. Nina was crying from inhaling the smoke, and my heart ached as I held her close. “Why isn’t he answering the phone? Anthony, please pick it up. Please, save me and Nina.” The fire had damaged the electricity, and just as my phone was about to die, Anthony finally picked up. I was about to speak when he shouted angrily at me first. “Diane, what’s wrong with you? Don’t you know that Diane has a fever? I finally managed to get her to sleep, and you keep calling.” “No, Anthony, there’s a fire at home. Please come back. I’m scared, and Nina keeps crying.” My body trembled uncontrollably. But Anthony’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Diane, are you enjoying playing these games? And by the way, my daughter’s name is Bonnie. Nina? That’s not my daughter.” At this point, I didn’t care to argue with him anymore. “It’s really a big fire, Anthony. Me and the baby are trapped inside. Please come back and help us. I’m begging you, please save our daughter.” As I saw smoke seeping into the room from under the door, my voice became more desperate. But then, through the phone, I heard Barbara’s weak voice calling out to Anthony. Then Anthony hung up the phone, and I couldn’t get through to him again. I held Nina in my arms and rushed into the restroom, desperately stuffing a towel in the crack of the door, but the thick smoke still seeped in little by little. Even though I pressed a damp towel over Nina’s nose and mouth, she was just a baby. I could hear her cries growing fainter and fainter, and my heart sank further into despair. Just when I thought Nina and I would die here, the restroom door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. The firefighters had arrived just in time, saving both Nina and me. The next day, when Anthony received the news and rushed to the hospital, he saw me in the ICU. His eyes lit up with relief, and he immediately hugged me. “Diane, I’m so glad you’re alright. What about Bonnie? How is she?” Slap… Before he could finish his sentence, I slapped him hard across the face. “Diane, how could you hit me?” Anthony turned his face away in shock, his eyes filled with disbelief. But I felt utterly drained. I was so tired… I didn’t want to love Anthony anymore. The fire that trapped us in the house made me realize that Anthony’s heart had always been with Barbara. I couldn’t pull him back, and I didn’t want to. This time, I didn’t want anything from him, neither him nor his heart. “Anthony, let’s get a divorce.” I closed my eyes, unwilling to look at him anymore.
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