After I insisted on divorce, my ex-wife suddenly became a millionaire and got together with my best friend. Meanwhile, I ended up working three jobs a day as a waiter. When we met again, it was at an upscale club. My friend said with some regret, “If you hadn’t insisted on the divorce back then, you’d be the one enjoying the high life now. In the end, your luck always falls just a bit short.” And she looked on indifferently, holding her new husband’s hand, with the composure of someone who had trampled me into the mud. She let everyone jeer at me, treating me as worthless. I knew Madison was waiting to see me embarrassed, waiting to see me regret it. But unfortunately, I remained like an outsider the whole time! After setting down the fruit platter, I said politely, “Everything’s here. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head out now.” Madison lost control of her emotions a bit and stood up to block my path. This was the first time we’d met since the divorce six years ago. She was still fixated on the fact that I had abandoned her, as if she was determined to get an explanation. Yes, no one could understand why I wanted a divorce. Back then, we were the perfect match in the eyes of elders and friends, and we got married with everyone’s blessing. Although we didn’t live in luxury, Madison was good at taking care of the home. Everyone around us had nothing but praise for her. Even my parents said, “Jason, you married such a wonderful woman like Madison. What more could you want?” When I brought up divorce, they said I didn’t know what was good for me. Even though my mother slapped me and my father threatened to disown me. I still left Madison without looking back. Looking at the refined, elegant, and triumphant woman before me. I smiled slightly. “Even if you’ve become a billionaire now, I’m still glad I left you back then.” I had no time to address everyone’s confusion. I left with one sentence: “Six years have passed, and you’ve never once thought about what you did wrong.” I really envied how she could live so shamelessly. Little did she know what kind of grievances I suffered in that hellish marriage. When we first got married, Madison sold our wedding apartment behind my back. When I came home from a business trip, all that greeted me were several large bags of luggage in the hallway. That’s when I found out we had no home. Exhausted and tired, I called her to ask why. All I got was her impatient rebuke: “A distant relative got sick and needed money for surgery. She’s family after all—what’s wrong with selling the apartment to help her?” It wasn’t that I wouldn’t let her help, but I hoped she would act within our means. Plus, we had just gotten married and were struggling ourselves. We could barely take care of our own needs most of the time. What I really minded was that the apartment was bought with money we saved together. How could she sell it without even telling me? I struggled to drag those large bags, under the scorching sun, not even knowing where I could stay. My confused and aggrieved behavior somehow angered Madison. “All you do is complain! The apartment’s already sold—what more do you want? I promise I’ll buy you a big mansion to live in later, okay?” Ignoring my sadness and confusion, she hung up and took a long leave from work. I thought she was taking time off to find us a new place. Instead, she dove headfirst into the hospital to take care of that so-called relative we hadn’t even met before. Everyone gave me a thumbs up: “Jason, your wife really is a genuinely good person!” Even when the neighbor’s dog went missing, Madison would help search for it late at night after working overtime. She was clearly exhausted, yet she ignored my concern. She didn’t go home until she found the dog, dragging her tired body back.
Before marriage, I just thought she was warm-hearted. It proved she was a kind person. But the more time we spent together, the more I couldn’t accept how she was full of kindness toward outsiders while being harsh and irritable only with me. Three months after selling the wedding apartment, we could only squeeze into a cramped, rundown apartment. When it rains, it pours—she got pregnant. The doctor said pregnant women needed to stay happy and should receive extra care and consideration. To help her have peace of mind during pregnancy, I requested a transfer to a less demanding position. Madison thought I was making too big a deal of it, and she also believed that relative’s words that I was trying to slack off and lacked ambition. Then she brought several relatives who needed help back to our rental to stay, demanding I take care of them. The house was like a market every day, giving me splitting headaches. The mountain of housework and the messy, cluttered living room broke through my last line of defense. Unable to bear it any longer, I drove them away. Madison got angry and had a huge fight with me. “They’re all my family. Without them helping and raising me, I would’ve been wandering in some corner long ago.” “Anyway, since you married me, you have to help me take care of them. That’s your fate.” After saying this, she glanced disgustedly around the house. Pointing her finger at me: “I’m going to pick them up and bring them back. You hurry up and clean the house, and mop the floor too.” When she slammed the door on her way out, she used so much force that it swung open again. A passing neighbor shook their head and clicked their tongue a few times. “Your wife is pregnant. It’s normal for her emotions to be unstable. What’s wrong with doing a bit more housework? No wonder Madison is so angry.” Madison was extremely popular. Whenever there was any conflict between us, outsiders always thought I was being unreasonable. At that time, I lost twenty pounds from anxiety and insomnia, looking haggard beyond recognition. I couldn’t care about others pointing fingers, and showed weakness to her time and again. “The doctor said you need to rest and protect the pregnancy. Plus, our financial situation isn’t good—we don’t have extra money to help those relatives.” I couldn’t understand why she insisted on bringing these relatives to the city. The place was cramped, and we even had to sleep on the floor at night. They had houses and land in the countryside where they could eat and live comfortably. I patiently tried to persuade her: “Madison, even if you send them half your salary every month, I won’t say anything. But having them stay here is seriously affecting our lives…” Madison wouldn’t listen. She just thought I was heartless and gave me the cold shoulder for a long time. Until she became increasingly irritable, the fetal movements became abnormal, and the doctor recommended hospital observation. Only then did she reluctantly send those relatives away. But it was already too late. For the sake of her health, the doctor said the pregnancy was no longer viable and strongly recommended ending it. Madison refused, cursing: “I’ve already sent the relatives away. From now on, just cook two extra dishes per meal and take good care of me. I don’t believe that if I eat well and sleep well, there’ll be problems with the baby!” I was shocked by her words, as if I was meeting her for the first time. The doctor said the fetal condition was unstable, and if she continued the pregnancy, even her life would be in danger. If she had any regard for herself at all, she couldn’t possibly say such outrageous things. At that moment, the blood in my body seemed to freeze. Knowing there was no point communicating with such a person, I supported the doctor’s decision. When she came out of the operating room, pale as death. A slap came flying at me. I stood there stunned. Then came Madison’s furious voice: “Jason, you’re so evil! Give me back my child!” This incident became known throughout the entire community. Many neighbors came voluntarily to comfort Madison. Although they didn’t say it directly, everyone who looked at me showed disgust in their eyes. Some self-righteous justice warriors mocked me: “Sigh, poor Madison was really looking forward to the baby. When marrying, you really should marry someone generous, otherwise even good people don’t get good outcomes.”
Madison could have explained the doctor’s recommendation. But she didn’t, and she actually enjoyed the feeling of being sympathized with by everyone. I suddenly felt too tired to speak. Looking at the woman putting on an act with extreme disappointment. I asked her, “Have you had enough of this act?” No one felt the pain of losing the child more than I did. Besides, it wasn’t my fault. “Madison, why would someone like you get married and harm others?” “Being your closest person is such bad luck. I won’t stop you from being busy loving the world—let’s get divorced.” I packed my things and moved out. Before leaving, I returned her slap. She covered her reddened face from my slap but didn’t ask me to stay. Because she didn’t need to do it herself—naturally, others would come to defend her. First were my parents. They threatened me with both carrot and stick: “What exactly did Madison do wrong? This whole thing was your fault to begin with. Who told you to agree to it? It’s understandable that she’s so angry.” “And look, which daughter-in-law would run over on the weekend to go shopping with her mother-in-law? Last week I just coughed a few times, and she bought medicine and made soup to take care of me—she’s like my own child.” “Anyway, I won’t allow you to throw tantrums with her anymore!” Seeing that I wouldn’t listen to anything, Dad issued an ultimatum: “You must move back in today and apologize properly to Madison, or our father-son relationship ends here!” Then there was my best friend, Marcus. He was still moved by how Madison once drove him back to his distant hometown. Following my parents’ lead, he kept accusing me: “Jason, you really are in the wrong here. I feel like ever since you got married, you’ve become so petty. Not knowing how to be understanding isn’t a good habit.” Even my good friend had received favors from Madison. Only I, since getting married, had never received a single bit of kindness from her. She could donate a month’s salary to a stray animal organization. She could also, at an invitation from the community group chat, happily abandon me to go volunteer. During a hurricane, the window in our house cracked. I was scared and shivering. She took a call and left to accompany a male friend from the community, telling me to stay alone. I said I was scared. She found me pretentious: “What’s there to be scared of? Do you think you’re still a child?” After hurting me with her words, she went out into the storm. Even when she fell heavily in the strong wind and broke bones all over her body. She still got up and endured the pain to go accompany that male friend. Or like when she promised to go with me to the hospital for a gastritis checkup, but the next second abandoned me to go eat with friends. Things like this were too numerous to count on ten fingers. Sometimes I really felt I was worth less than trash. Disapproval floated in Marcus’s eyes as he continued to accuse me: “Jason, I won’t help you this time either. No matter what, you shouldn’t have agreed to it.” Looking at these people’s faces, I pulled out the medical report. “The doctor said the baby couldn’t be saved. Can you understand that? It wasn’t that I agreed to it.” “You’re all as stubborn as Madison, never caring about her well-being.” Seeing the evidence, they were left speechless and finally shut up. But what I didn’t expect was this. During the cooling-off period between Madison and me, Marcus would take advantage of the opportunity. He claimed to have stomach cancer and begged Madison to accompany him for wedding photos. His excuse: “My life is about to end. My only dying wish is to take a set of wedding photos, I just need a bride…” Then he blinked at me: “Jason, can I borrow your wife? You won’t be angry, right?”
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