At three months pregnant, I was left behind on a sinking cruise ship by my husband, Damon Hunt. The reason? Elena Hart screamed that she was afraid of water. I begged him to save me and the baby, but he shoved me off the lifeboat, coldly saying, “You can swim, right? You’ll be fine!” After being rescued from the ocean, I lost the baby and had to undergo surgery, but I couldn’t get Damon to sign the consent forms. As I scrolled through social media, I saw Elena’s post on Instagram. Elena: [True love shows in times of crisis, Damon.] The photo showed them wrapped in the same blanket, drenched and barely clothed. Once I recovered and was discharged from the hospital, I drove straight to the plain. Damon, who hadn’t contacted me in over a month, suddenly bombarded me with calls. “Lillian, the wedding dress is ready. Are we still getting married?” After leaving the car convoy, I turned on my spare phone and saw over a hundred missed calls from Damon. I picked up the phone, and Damon, barely holding back his frustration, demanded, “Lillian, where have you been? I couldn’t reach you by phone, and you didn’t reply to any of my messages. My parents have been reminding you to try on the wedding dress, but you’ve gone completely off the radar. Are you still planning on getting married or not?” I glanced at the divorce papers I had already signed. “I guess we’re not getting married.” “What’s wrong with you? You were the one who said we should just register and not have a ceremony. The invitations have already been sent. Now you’re backing out?” There was noise in the background. A sweet female voice was soothing him. His tone softened. “Wait for me. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go try on the wedding dress.” The wedding dress was custom-made, and it was the most expensive element of our minimalist wedding. I had imagined countless times walking down the aisle, wearing the most beautiful dress, with all of our friends and family watching, marrying him. But now, I didn’t care anymore. Damon had upgraded his car—a bold royal blue that screamed attention. Sitting in the passenger seat, the sun was blinding. I pulled down the visor, only to see lipstick marks on the mirror—Damon loves Elena. Damon suddenly explained, “I swapped out the car. The old one was too cheap. It didn’t match my status.” That was the birthday gift I had scrimped and saved for. From the car’s color to the interior, everything had been carefully chosen by me. Just like me, the car was discarded. We stopped outside the bridal shop, but I didn’t get out. “Why here? I thought I booked at another one.” Damon dragged me out of the car. “A friend recommended this one. She said it’s better.” I always loved silk wedding dresses, but this store was filled with dramatic, puffy gowns. Despite already choosing my wedding dress, I was being forced to change my plans because of Elena’s preferences. A shop assistant guided me toward the fitting room. The dress fit, but it didn’t suit me at all. It felt as mismatched as Damon and I had become. Damon looked at me, but the only time I saw real admiration in his eyes was for the dress. I knew he wasn’t thinking of me. He was imagining Elena wearing it. “This one,” he declared without hesitation. I silently allowed him to lead me out of the store. Once in the car, he asked, “Why the long face? You’ve been to the plain, had some fun, and you’re still upset? Just because of a small thing, are you going to hold a grudge?” During last month’s cruise, when the ship was sinking after hitting a reef, Damon had pushed me off the lifeboat. It was all because Elena was afraid of water, and I had learned to swim years ago. I lost the baby, and he found his true love. He had almost completely forgotten about that day. When I stayed silent, he began lecturing me. “Why did you have to go to the plain? You’re pregnant, and you’re not in your twenties anymore. Shouldn’t you be more responsible? Now that you’re a mom, you need to be more stable. The baby is your responsibility now.” I shot back. “And this baby isn’t yours? Did you think about that responsibility when you shoved me off the lifeboat?” Damon turned his face away. “Stop trying to turn this into something it’s not. Go get checked out. Make sure everything’s alright with the baby.” Looking up, I saw that we had arrived at the OB/GYN. The doctor who performed the procedure looked worried. “Didn’t you just have an abortion last month? Is something wrong?”
Damon, who had been lazily scrolling through his phone, froze. “An abortion? Lillian, you had an abortion without telling me? When did this happen?” The waiting room was crowded, and all eyes were on us. I remembered two months ago, when we first found out I was pregnant. Damon had spun me around in joy, right there in the same hospital. We hadn’t been financially well-off when we first got married. We’d registered but hadn’t had a wedding ceremony. It wasn’t until I got pregnant and our financial situation improved that I suggested having a wedding. Damon couldn’t wait to make it happen. But now, his indifference tore at me. In those two months, he’d found true love, while I was drowning in heartbreak. Someone came over to mediate, and Damon frowned, pulling me into a stairwell. “June 3rd.” I looked up, noticing the anger on his face had frozen. That was the day the cruise ship had sunk, and I had been left stranded in the freezing ocean for five hours before being rescued. Meanwhile, Damon was already in Elena’s arms, confessing his love. Damon’s voice softened. “Have you had your check-up after the surgery? You went through a lot, and you didn’t even tell me. Running off to the plain without resting properly.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go get you checked out. We need to make sure there are no aftereffects. And don’t worry. We’ll have more babies in the future.” His phone rang, and a love song played from the speakers. Damon had always used basic ringtones—except when it came to Elena. For her, he’d make everything feel special. On the other end of the line, Elena was playfully whining. “Are you free today? I’ve been thinking about it. That cruise accident was so scary. I need to learn to swim for my own safety. Will you be my personal instructor? I’ve always been afraid of water, but I trust you.” Damon smiled, oblivious to my presence, clearly enjoying the attention. He hung up, glanced at me, and his expression hardened. “If it weren’t for your miscarriage, we wouldn’t have all this trouble. Let’s skip the check-up today. I’ve got something urgent. You can come again with my mom instead.” He rushed off without another word. I walked out, facing the pitying stares of everyone in the lobby. I hailed a cab. It was July, and the heat felt suffocating, thick and oppressive. It was like drowning in the sea—my heart was heavy with pain, but I couldn’t bring myself to cry. Back home, Damon’s mother called, her voice stern. “Lillian, I heard about the miscarriage. It’s your fault. I’ll take you for a check-up in a couple of days. Hope it won’t affect your future fertility.” I didn’t respond. Her voice softened slightly. “Lillian, you’ve been without parents your whole life. My husband and I have treated you like our own daughter. Don’t take this the wrong way, but losing one child isn’t the end of the world. Life goes on. I’m just worried about your health. If you can have kids, the family will have a future.” I had once believed her when she acted like a mother to me, thinking that marrying Damon would give me the family I’d always wanted. Now, I saw through her—it was all about controlling my womb. “Tomorrow, I’ve invited someone to come over and hold a memorial for the child. Damon should come too. A lost child is gone, but your relationship with Damon must continue.” I turned off the backup phone, not bothering to listen anymore. I stopped feeling the pain.
It had been a whole day without food, and as I lay in bed, my stomach twisted with sharp, cramping pain. I thought about getting up to grab something to eat, but the thought of food only made me feel nauseous. This house, with every corner filled with his presence, made me sick to my stomach. I could almost feel him there in the silence, his shadow looming everywhere. As a wave of dizziness and cold sweat washed over me, I opened my phone, hoping to order some medicine. Instead, I saw that Elena had posted on Instagram again, even going so far as to send me a screenshot. She made sure I saw it before quickly deleting the message. She made sure I saw it before quickly deleting the message. Elena: [Damon is my swimming instructor today!] The picture showed a crystal-clear pool, with Elena in a bikini, her selfie framed perfectly—except for one detail. She was sitting on Damon’s lap. Damon didn’t show his face, but the tattoo on his abs was unmistakable. It was my initials—once a symbol of our love. A sudden wave of nausea hit me as the pain in my stomach intensified, and I threw my phone onto the bed. I didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually, I managed to calm down enough to get up. As I walked toward the door, I heard Damon returning home. He was upstairs, chatting with Elena on a video call. His voice was soft and tender, full of affection. “Next month, I’m going to Brighton for work. Will you come with me?” Elena laughed, “Of course, I’ll come. We need to leave a trace of our love everywhere.” I leaned back against the door, curling up into myself. No one wanted to give up on someone they truly loved. But when silence and heartache piled up, sometimes it was time to let go, no matter how painful it was. Once upon a time, Damon and I had supported each other through thick and thin—two interns just starting at the company, and now, department directors. We’d seen the harbor view at 4 AM, worked overtime for half a year, delayed, and finally canceled our wedding—all for the sake of a big project. During the toughest, most exhausting days, we would prepare lunch for each other, and when we finally found the time to eat, the food would already be spoiled. We comforted each other, promising that once we succeeded, we’d go on that trip to the plain. But in the end, I was the only one who went. I searched through the ashes of love, but there was no spark left. That night, I was woken up by a strange sound. Damon’s mother had really gone through with the ritual. She had even set up a small altar for the unborn child. Damon had been ordered to keep watch, his head lowered as he tapped away at his phone. When I walked closer, I saw he was chatting with Elena. Damon: [My mom is overreacting!] Damon: [It’s just a dead baby—didn’t even have a name, just a tiny embryo. Why should I keep watch for something like that?] Damon: [It’s not like Lillian died.] Damon: [Remember that hot spring I promised you yesterday? We’ll have to go next time.] I turned and went back to my room, opening the company’s system to submit my resignation. I had never liked Harborview, but it had been Damon’s home, and I had stayed here for many years. But no matter how long I’d been here, I always felt like an outsider. Now, I was determined to start fresh. It was time to leave. The next day, I went to the office to officially resign. As luck would have it, I ran into Elena delivering lunch to Damon. “Fired?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “Serves you right! I told Damon ages ago that IT isn’t a field for women. You have been in the company for so many years, now you’re leaving!” She patted me on the shoulder. “Lillian, love is the same way. If it’s not right, no matter how many years you’re married, it’ll eventually end. Besides, who really knows you were even married?” I pushed her hand away and walked straight for the door. She thought I didn’t know about her and Damon sneaking around on the company rooftop over the past couple of months. After a 2 PM lunch break, whenever she brought Damon lunch, they’d stay up there together until almost 4 PM before returning to work. Damon was the vice director of the marketing department, often traveling for business, which meant he wasn’t in the office much. He was also rarely at home, most likely spending his time with Elena. But from now on, he wouldn’t be that leisurely. When I handed in my resignation, Margaret Whitmore, my boss, shared her thoughts in a heartfelt conversation. The message was clear. She was getting Damon out of the company. I had been a key player in the R&D department. Our relationship had made it difficult to put Damon in a tight spot, but now that I was leaving, his position could be filled by someone else. Margaret said, “Ms. Westwood’s son just graduated and returned from abroad. She’s considering letting him take over as director.” I nodded. “Sounds good to me.” As I walked out the door, it was nearly noon when Damon finally rushed into clock in. When he saw me holding a box, his confusion turned to realization. “Well, that’s good. We’ll have the wedding this Sunday. There’s no need for you to work anymore. It’ll be easier on you,” he said. Elena, standing behind him, spoke with a familiar tone. “What, do you look down on career women?” She was a makeup artist, always traveling, always on the go. I knew, for a fact, that on at least four separate occasions, Damon had claimed to be on a business trip when in reality, he was traveling with her. Throughout our entire marriage, the only trip we ever took together was the cruise. We had always talked about going to the grasslands, but it kept getting pushed back. But that time, when I suggested the cruise, Damon didn’t refuse. It was only because Elena was with us. I glanced up, and Damon’s smile was as bright as it had been during the early days of our love. “Elena, you know it’s not the same between you two.” His tenderness had long since belonged to someone else. When my colleagues threw me a farewell party, I declined. I quietly slipped away, and it only confirmed Damon’s belief. He thought I couldn’t hack it in the industry anymore. After losing the baby, I was disheartened and ready to give up my career to become a housewife. He brushed past me without a second glance and said, “After the wedding, I’ll give you everything you want. Enough with the tantrums.” I smiled, “Fine, no more tantrums from me.” And I meant it. I didn’t need him anymore. “Damon, let’s get a divorce.”
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