The day I nearly lost my life during childbirth, my husband should have been waiting outside the delivery room, but instead, he was accompanying his first love to treat her child. She shared a post: [With him, I, as a single mother, feel like I’ve found a home.] The caption went with a photo of my husband holding her child, looking full of compassion. Having narrowly escaped death, I no longer craved his attention. Whether he had an ambiguous relationship with her or built a home outside of ours, it no longer mattered to me. On the day I sent the divorce papers and prepared to leave the country, he chased me to the airport. He asked desperately, “Honey, why don’t you care about me anymore?” ***** The night before my due date, my water broke, and I was rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night. After signing some paperwork, my husband, Luke Carter, lingered in the waiting area, playing on his phone. In excruciating pain, I wanted him to come in and comfort me, but he was indifferent. While I missed the best window for anesthesia, he was still chatting with his first love. As I bled heavily, and the doctor informed me that the baby was gone and that they would do their best to save me, he wasn’t even outside the delivery room. I came back from the brink of death, only to see a lifeless fetus when I woke up, and Luke’s phone had powered off. The doctor, exhausted, tried to console me, but I felt numb. Without shedding a tear, I asked the nurse to take me away from the hospital. Being sorrowful was meaningless. If even my husband didn’t care about me, no one else would. Walking through the hospital corridor, I passed the emergency department and saw Luke, who had been missing for several hours. He was holding the son of his first love, Jessica Ellis, in his arms. The child was weak and burning with fever. When he saw me, he whispered, “Did you give birth? A boy or a girl?” Looking at the warm scene before me, I bitterly said, “She’s dead. It was a girl.” Luke froze, while Jessica shot a look of high-handed pity. The postpartum pain made it impossible for me to stand for long. I ignored them and left wearily. My relationship with Luke was always poorly timed. We were forced to sit at the matchmaking dinner table, thrown together by circumstance. After the wedding, I learned that he had always been in love with Jessica, who lived overseas. He had only agreed to marry me out of disappointment. He promised to treat me well, but after I was five months pregnant, Jessica returned home with her child after a divorce. Luke’s rekindled feelings for her led to the most difficult four months of my life. He began frequently coming home late, always citing work as the excuse. He smelled of unfamiliar perfume. He never accompanied me to regular check-ups, but he would run around for Jessica’s son. I opened my phone and saw her latest post: [With him, I, as a single mother, feel like I’ve found a home.] The word “home” stung my eyes. I was Luke’s wife, but Jessica and her child seemed to receive more care from him. During my pregnancy, I would cry and argue, asking him why he couldn’t prioritize me. But now, having come so close to death, I had let go. If I survived such a major surgery without him by my side, I could live the rest of my life without him. I no longer wanted the love he had begrudgingly given me. I decided to stop giving him my heart and soul. I continued clearing the unread messages from the past few days and saw an announcement from the company about a recruitment opportunity at the headquarters in Olisfast for two years. My past achievements met the application criteria. I felt a surge of gratitude toward fate for giving me a chance to start over right after I had shifted my perspective. Without hesitation, I submitted my application and began secretly preparing for the documents to go abroad. Luke had always disliked that I earned more than he did and that my household chores didn’t match up to his mother’s. He complained that I wasn’t good at taking care of him. I couldn’t let him find out too soon, or he’d try to stop me. As I was calculating my next steps, Luke came home. Before I could close the webpage, he caught me red-handed. “What are you looking at? You plan to go abroad?” he asked.
I hadn’t even had the chance to come up with an excuse when Luke frowned. He said, “You lost your child and you’re still in the mood for a trip abroad? “You should stay home and rest for now, stop running around and working.” He still saw me as the woman who clung to fantasies about marriage. But thanks to his dismissive attitude and self-righteousness, my plans to travel abroad remained a secret. I kept my face neutral, closing the webpage. “Got it.” Luke threw his coat onto the sofa and sat down, placing his feet on the table. “What’s for dinner?” I didn’t want to move because I was in pain. “Isn’t your mom here today? Let her cook for you.” Luke tilted his head and chuckled, “You want to eat without cooking? My mom is only here to take care of you because you’re pregnant. “Now that the baby’s gone, she won’t come. If I didn’t stop her, she’d probably have a few harsh words to say to you.” During my pregnancy, I still went to work and cooked, while my mother-in-law, who cared more about the child, came uninvited to take over the housework. Luke didn’t care about me or our family. He expected everything to be served to him on a plate while running off all the time. Now, after losing the baby, I was still weak. He had the nerve to blame me. I bit my lip, not wanting to argue. I got up and went to the bedroom to lie down on the bed. Luke was puzzled by my unusual silence. He followed me into the bedroom. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you making dinner?” I closed my eyes to rest. He shook me lightly and continued, “You’ve had enough sleep at the hospital, haven’t you? If you’re not making dinner, what am I supposed to eat?” I sighed, “I don’t want to move. Just order takeout.” He retorted, “No way! My mom says takeout is unhealthy and expensive.” His loud voice made my headache worse. I pulled the blanket over my head, ignoring him. Luke bent down and leaned in. He asked tentatively, “Amy, are you mad?” Not waiting for my reply, he continued, “You’re angry, aren’t you? “Jessica’s been divorced and raising a child on her own. It’s tough for her. I just want to help her out. “I am her only friend in Yraburg, so please try to understand.” In the past, I might have argued with him. He just wouldn’t let go of his ridiculous need to save people. I also needed his support, but he’d rather leave me to help someone else. He never cared about my feelings. But now, I was too tired to bring it up anymore, because talking about it felt pointless. I replied, “I’m not angry. She does have it hard. “Since she’s your acquaintance, why don’t you ask her to make dinner for you? I’m tired today.” Luke stood up, taking a deep breath. He snapped, “What’s with the attitude? Honestly, it’s fine if you don’t want to cook. Don’t act like I’m some big fan of your cooking.” It didn’t matter whether I agreed with him or not. He was impossible to please. He left in a huff and went to the living room, watching short videos on his phone and laughing loudly. Soon enough, he received a phone call and rushed out of the house, grabbing his coat as he went. He went to find Jessica. I recognized the ringtone. It was set for Jessica specifically, by Luke. The house fell silent. After nearly a week of rest post-surgery, I had mostly recovered to my pre-pregnancy state. One night, after finishing the work I had put off, Luke came back home reeking of alcohol. Jessica had brought him back. She had almost been knocked over by him as she helped him walk. She said, “Luke has been waiting for ten months, hoping for a child, and he’s not in a good mood these days. He drank too much. “Amy, please be patient with him. After all, the baby died in your womb.”
Jessica’s smile was polite, but the hostility in her eyes was crystal clear. I didn’t understand why she hated me so much, but in less than a month, I’d be divorcing Luke and leaving the country. I ignored her glare, took Luke from her hands, and gave her the cold shoulder. I said, “Thanks, it’s inappropriate for a single lady to be out so late. You should head home too.” Jessica seemed unwilling to leave without getting in one last jab. She said, “You can’t even have children, so make sure you watch your husband. Don’t blame me when things go wrong.” I closed the door and tossed Luke onto the sofa. His voice was weak and intermittent as he muttered, “Amy, I’m drunk. I feel terrible.” I didn’t bother with him. Luke had a bad drinking habit. Whenever he was either in a good mood or a bad mood, he’d go out and drink himself into a stupor. He had never thought about changing this habit, and before we were married, he had relied on his mother, and after marriage, he relied on me. Three years ago, it was the same thing. On a night like this, he had been brought home by his friends. I took care of him diligently, bathing him and making soup for him. In return, he hit and scolded me. He snapped, “Why did I marry you, you ugly freak? “You’re nothing compared to Jessica. How can you expect me to care about you? No chance!” He pulled out his belt, venting all his pent-up frustrations on me. He knocked over the bowl and left my body bruised. He couldn’t hold his liquor, and his temper only worsened after drinking. He’d blackout completely. I cried the entire night while taking care of him until he fell asleep. But when he woke up, he had forgotten everything he’d done to me. He said, “Honey, I didn’t know. I was drunk. I promise I won’t hit you again, okay?” I believed him. But even when he wasn’t hitting me, he would still throw drunken tantrums, yelling at me as if everything going wrong in his life was my fault. “Amy, why aren’t you here to take care of me?” he grumbled as if I had wronged him in some way. I stood a few steps away from him. I said indifferently, “Jessica can’t handle you. If you can come back on your own, it means you’re still standing. There’s soup on the table, help yourself.” He snapped, “Why are you so stubborn? How long are you going to hold a grudge over Jessica? “You heartless shrew, I already explained it to you.” I ignored him and returned to my room to continue preparing my documents for leaving the country. Luke kept whining, asking for my attention one moment and insulting me the next. I acted as though I couldn’t hear him. I wasn’t his maid. I still had my own life. The next morning, still hungover, Luke packed his things, shot me a glare, and slammed the door on his way out. He said, “I’m on a business trip. You have a few days to think about what a wife is supposed to be like.” So, he could pack his luggage after all. I hummed in response and went off to work. A week went by without a word from Luke. He was adamant about freezing me out. Meanwhile, Jessica’s posts were full of life. Starting from the day Luke “went on a business trip”, she updated her travel photos like clockwork. In every set of pictures, Luke appeared. Her captions were as suggestive as ever. [The important thing is not the scenery, but the person you see it with.] [After all the twists and turns, the right person finally walked into my life.] They made quite a sweet couple. I took screenshots of all these posts, keeping them as evidence of his infidelity. Thankfully, with Luke out of the picture, I had the peace of mind to prepare my documents for leaving the country. Jessica’s flaunting was practically a gift to me, providing the perfect leverage for my divorce. A week later, Luke returned home. The first thing he did was nervously ask me, “Amy, I’ve been gone so many days, and you didn’t ask where I went or if I missed you. “How did you change like this?” I looked at him, feeling a bit bewildered by his anxious expression. If I didn’t know any better, I might think he was off on a vacation with someone else, not Jessica. Freshly out of her arms, he came to me. His mother taught him well, making him think that the world should revolve around him. “What about me? You used to tell me not to bother you when you were on business trips, so I listened and didn’t disturb you,” I said. Luke was speechless. After a long pause, he finally replied, “Alright. I promise I won’t contact Jessica again, okay? “This weekend, I’ll invite some friends over for dinner. Cook for them and show them even though you can’t have children, you have other qualities. How about it?” I smirked. “You don’t need to go through the trouble because I’m going on a business trip this week.” His friends never liked me, always thinking Jessica was a better match for him. They had mocked me both openly and covertly. Cooking for them would not change their opinions of me. Moreover, their gatherings were always filled with heavy drinking and meats. I would be the one to clean up. I had no reason to please people who would soon become my ex-husband’s friends. Luke frowned, unable to believe that such a good proposal had been rejected. He said, “You don’t know how to appreciate a favor. “Is work more important than me?” I heard him say these words, ones I had often said in the past, and I couldn’t help but feel a touch of irony. “Sorry, maybe next time,” I said. I thought that would be the end of it, but when I arrived home on the weekend, dragging my luggage and feeling exhausted, I was greeted by a loud noise. “Kiss her!” Cheered Luke’s friends. They were surrounding Luke and Jessica. Luke and Jessica embraced each other. They were getting closer and closer when a child sitting nearby suddenly pointed at me. He asked, “Daddy, who’s that lady?” Luke quickly pulled away from Jessica. He asked awkwardly, “Amy, you’re back.” Without batting an eye, I closed the door and went downstairs, as though the house behind me wasn’t even mine anymore. Luke opened the door and chased after me. He didn’t care whether the neighbors heard. He shouted, “It’s not like that, Amy. Let me explain. You misunderstood. “Amy, where are you going? Please come back.” I flagged down a taxi by the side of the road and asked the driver to take me to the airport. In truth, my visa had already been processed, and I had planned to leave for abroad tonight. I wanted to leave quietly and calmly, officially part ways with Luke. That was why I had returned home. But now, it didn’t seem necessary to set aside time for a conversation with him. After all, that home had long been taken over by someone else. I sat in the taxi and sent the electronic version of the divorce agreement to Luke. My colleague, Jake Grant, who was also on this business trip, called me for a conference call to confirm my flight details and work arrangements. After hanging up, I saw several missed calls from Luke. I put my phone on silent. Aside from the signed divorce agreement, nothing else mattered. At the airport, I met up with Jake. Just as we were about to go through security, someone grabbed my suitcase. I turned around to see Luke, panting heavily. His eyes were red, and his voice was hoarse as he said, “Amy, I’ve already sent them all away. Please come home with me, alright?” I didn’t answer. Instead, I took the paper version of the divorce agreement from my bag. I asked, “Did you read the agreement I sent you? “If it’s convenient, you can just sign this one instead.”
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