Coming home from the farmer’s market, I didn’t stop for a second, washing vegetables and cooking dinner. Just as I finished, Daniel pushed open the door. “Stella’s pipe burst, you should go help her. It’s tough for a single mom.” I didn’t even wipe the sweat from my brow before heading to her place to unclog the drain, clean up the standing water, and comfort her frightened child… By the time I dragged my exhausted body back home, I saw Daniel handing my daughter’s sweater to Stella. “Stella, don’t feel bad about it. Lily can’t wear it anymore anyway, so it’s perfect for Lucy.” I stared at that sweater and a sudden, bitter laugh escaped me. “Daniel Miller, let’s get a divorce.” He looked at me, utterly incredulous. “For an old sweater?” “Yes, for an old sweater.” My words hung in the air, and a long silence fell over the living room. Daniel’s face darkened. “Amelia, why are you being so dramatic again?” He walked over, reaching out to brush away the damp strands of hair stuck to my forehead, but I turned my head, dodging his touch. His hand froze mid-air, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. “Alright, I know you’re still thinking about Lily, but she’s been gone for so long now. We have to move forward.” He lowered his voice, gesturing towards Stella, who stood awkwardly to the side. “You know Stella’s situation. It’s just a piece of clothing. If we can help, we should. Don’t give people something to talk about.” Stella immediately handed the sweater back to me, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with apology. “Amelia, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this sweater was so important to you. Daniel meant well, please don’t blame him. We don’t need this sweater.” But Daniel pushed the sweater back into her arms, his tone sharp. “Take it! Amelia just gets this way, she bottles things up, she’ll be fine in a bit.” He then turned to me, a slight frown creasing his brows. “Go clean up. You’re covered in dirt, don’t you mind stinking up the place for others?” “Dinner’s cold. Hurry up and bring it out. Stella and Lucy haven’t eaten yet.” I didn’t move, my gaze locked on that sweater. In his world, this was indeed a trivial matter. A piece of clothing, a neighbor, a perfectly logical act of kindness. He couldn’t understand, and he didn’t want to understand, what that sweater meant to me. My strength drained away, but I spoke again. “I want a divorce.” Daniel’s patience finally snapped. “Amelia Stone, have you lost your mind?! You want to destroy our family over an old, unworn sweater? Do you really think Lily in heaven would find peace with you acting like this?!” “It’s not just an old sweater.” I fought back the ache in my throat, looking into his eyes, trying to make him understand. “It was Lily’s. I knitted it for her with my own hands.” “I know it was Lily’s! A relic!” He raised his voice. “But the dead can’t come back to life! What’s the point of holding onto things? You spend all your time clutching those old things, locking yourself in the past. What’s the meaning in that?” “I gave the sweater to Lucy hoping it would be useful, and hoping it would help you move on! I’m doing this for your own good!” My throat constricted, a bitter ache spreading down my gullet. “Daniel Miller, you never once asked me.” He whirled around, glaring at me. “Ask you? Would you have agreed? You’d turn her room into a shrine, a museum, and yourself into a living ghost! I can’t just stand by and watch you like this!” His words sliced through me like sharp knives, one after another. Yes, I had carefully kept all of Lily’s things. Her drawings, her tiny hair clips, the shoes she wore, even the tissues she used – all sealed in storage bins in the attic. But that sweater, I couldn’t bear to put it away. On countless sleepless nights, I held that sweater, feeling the faint remnants of her scent, and that was how I barely made it through. It wasn’t just a piece of clothing; it was my solace. He didn’t understand, and he never tried to. He just thought I was sick, and he needed to fix me.
Seeing the situation, Stella quickly pulled her daughter Lucy’s hand. “Daniel, maybe we should just go home for now. Let’s not make you two argue because of us.” “Stella, stay out of it.” Daniel grabbed her arm. “This isn’t your fault; she’s just overthinking things. She just needs to calm down.” With that, he walked straight into the kitchen, brought out the dishes I had just cooked, and pulled Stella and Lucy to sit down and eat. No one paid any attention to me, standing alone in the living room. Laughter echoed from the dining table. A single tear fell silently at my feet. In that moment, I understood completely. He thought I was making a mountain out of a molehill. I thought he was cold and heartless. We lived under the same roof, but we were already people from two different worlds. I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back. When I opened them again, my gaze was clear. Stella eventually left, taking the sweater with her. Daniel walked over to me, attempting to embrace me. “My tone was a bit harsh just now, I apologize. I’m sorry.” I didn’t resist, letting him hold me. His body was warm, but that warmth never reached my heart. I remembered many years ago, during Lily’s illness. Lily’s hair fell out, and she started to refuse looking in the mirror. That yellow sweater was knitted during that time. I wanted her to be warm, and I wanted her to look less frail. The day the sweater was finished, Lily was overjoyed, flashing a long-lost smile at her reflection in the mirror. “Mommy, look, don’t I look like a little bunny?” I smiled and nodded, tears streaming down my face. When Daniel arrived, he also saw the sweater. He merely said flatly, “Looks nice. Don’t let her catch a cold.” Then, he answered his phone again. He was always busy; there was always something more important than his daughter and me. It wasn’t that he didn’t contribute; he covered all the medical expenses. But he left all the companionship, the agony, and the despair for me alone to bear. Now, he even wanted to take away the last shred of my memories. Pulling myself from my memories, I gently pushed him away. “Daniel Miller, the word you’ve said most to me these past few years is ‘I’m sorry.’” He was busy when I gave birth; I went to the hospital alone. He was busy when Lily was sick; I cared for her alone. He was busy during Lily’s funeral; I handled everything alone. Afterward, he would always quickly say he was sorry. With each of his apologies, my heart shattered over and over again. The light was dim, Daniel’s face largely hidden in shadow. I couldn’t make out his expression, but when he looked up, I met his eyes—utterly devoid of emotion. My heart lurched with pain. My voice came out fractured as I spoke again. “But I don’t need an apology.” He frowned. “I don’t understand. What do you need then? Love? We’ve been married for years, Amelia. That kind of ‘love’ is just empty sentiment now.” I stared blankly at the husband I’d been married to for ten years. His appearance hadn’t changed much. But his heart, it seemed, had never truly beaten for me from the very beginning. He saw my lack of reaction and was about to say something more when he received a call from his company. “Amelia, don’t overthink this. There’s an urgent matter at the company; I have to go.” He patted my head reassuringly. Just as he reached the door, Stella rushed in. Her face was tear-streaked, her words choked with sobs. “Daniel, Lucy has a fever, I don’t know what to do…” I heard Daniel say softly to her, “Don’t worry, I’ll drive you to the hospital right away!” The door slammed shut, and a deathly silence filled the living room. I tugged at the corner of my mouth, a bitter smile forming. When Lily was in the ICU and critical, Daniel never seemed so anxious. My heart felt utterly cold. He didn’t love me. All these years, I had always known. But I’d clung to a last sliver of hope, wondering if, with long years of being together, he might eventually fall in love with me. Now, with his actions, he told me. That day would never come. Never.
Daniel didn’t come home all night. My pillow was soaked, my eyes dry and stinging. I slowly sat up, gazing out at the gray dawn sky. My whole being felt desolate. I sat on the bed in a daze for a long time, then walked to the wardrobe and pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside were some of his old things. A photo album, a few letters, and a property deed. I used to never look through these. I believed there should be a basic level of trust and respect between husband and wife. But now, I just wanted to find an answer for myself. I opened the yellowed letters. They were love letters Daniel had written to Stella, every word filled with genuine affection. I closed the letters, feeling an indescribable mix of emotions. No jealousy, no anger, just a deep weariness that came from the bottom of my heart. Suddenly, I remembered many details I had ignored. The extraordinary enthusiasm Daniel showed when Stella first moved in. He proactively went to help her, introduced her to the neighborhood, acting with an eagerness completely unlike his usual self. Stella’s daughter naturally called him “Uncle Daniel,” and then, unconsciously, it became “Daddy Daniel.” Daniel never corrected her; in fact, he seemed to enjoy it. Yet, when Lily was alive, he rarely had the patience to play with her for more than half an hour. He *could* be gentle and patient, just never with my daughter and me. Daniel and I were childhood sweethearts. Growing up, Daniel was the object of adoration for all the kids around us, someone who radiated charisma in any crowd. To marry him was something I never dared to dream of. He sat across from me, smiling distantly, and finally said, “My parents really like you, and I think you’re pretty good too. So, let’s give it a try.” I thought my long, secret crush had finally found its perfect ending. Ten years of marriage, and I’d been like a furiously spinning top, toiling tirelessly for the family. No one appreciated my hard work, no one cared if I was tired. They only said, “Amelia is so capable.” Stella had said it too: “Amelia, you’re just too capable. You can do anything. Not like me, I panic at the slightest thing.” I smiled, saying nothing. All that ‘capability’ was merely forced out of me by his indifference. No one is born knowing everything. Stella didn’t know because she was pampered; even after her husband died, she still had Daniel. Just then, the door opened. Daniel was back. He walked in, calling out, “Amelia, Lucy had a high fever last night…” Not seeing me in the living room, he paused mid-sentence and found his way to the bedroom. Seeing my swollen, red eyes, he embraced me with a look of concern. “Amelia, are you not feeling well?” I didn’t answer, stating calmly, “Daniel Miller, yesterday’s divorce—I was serious.” His concern vanished instantly, replaced by impatience. “Reason?” I looked at him. “Because of these ten years. Daniel Miller, I married you, and I never once truly experienced love. Instead, I earned a pair of calloused hands.” I held out my palms. The rough, thick calluses, left by years of constant labor, were starkly visible in the bright light. “For these ten years, I’ve toiled thanklessly, serving your whole family. But now, I’m tired. I don’t want this anymore.” These words completely enraged Daniel. “Amelia Stone, have I ever mistreated you since we got married? Everything you eat, wear, and use – didn’t I provide it all?” “You don’t have to deal with the stress of a job like I do; you just get to be a ‘lady of leisure’ at home every day! You’re still not satisfied with this good life?!” “I’m telling you, don’t even *think* about divorce!” A sharp pain shot through my wrist. I struggled to break free, and with too much force, I stumbled backward. “Daniel Miller, do you think I’m asking for your permission?” I looked at him coldly. “Let me tell you! Whether you agree or not, I’m divorcing you!” With that, I dragged a dusty suitcase from the wardrobe and started packing my things. In less than ten minutes, I had packed everything I owned. I didn’t want these old items to stir any painful emotions. The heartless Daniel had truly never given me a single gift. I carried my suitcase to the door. Daniel followed me. He frowned deeply. “Amelia Stone, you don’t even have money for a lawyer, and you’re dreaming of divorce?” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. He was right. Ten years of marriage, and my personal bank balance had never exceeded three digits. What had this seemingly ‘perfect’ marriage, in the eyes of outsiders, truly given me? I met his gaze, my eyes filled with cold indifference. “Daniel Miller, don’t trouble yourself worrying about my lawyer. “Whether I have money or not, you’ll find out after the divorce.”
The next day, I contacted a lawyer to discuss divorce matters. Ms. Davies was an efficient, middle-aged woman. After listening to my account, she calmly analyzed. “Mr. Miller’s situation falls under typical emotional neglect and psychological abuse. While it’s hard to legally define him as the ‘at-fault’ party in that regard, we can fight for your maximum share of marital assets.” I nodded. “Ms. Davies, I want one more thing.” “What is it?” “My daughter’s sweater.” Ms. Davies paused, then seemed to understand, a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. “Ms. Stone, rest assured, I will handle this for you.” As I walked out of the law firm, my phone rang. It was Daniel. I hesitated, then answered. “Where are you?” His voice on the other end was laced with suppressed fury. “Get back here right now, I…” I cut him off directly. “Daniel Miller, I’ve already retained a lawyer. She’ll send you the divorce papers as soon as possible.” “If you don’t agree, we’ll see each other in court.” With that, I immediately hung up, not giving him a chance to babble further. Just then, I saw an Ins update notification. It was from Stella Reed. The latest post, half an hour ago, was a photo of her and Daniel at a carousel in an amusement park, leaning intimately together, with Lucy in his arms. “Thank you for giving us such a wonderful afternoon.” I knew she wanted to provoke me, but instead of getting angry, I simply tapped the ‘like’ button. Seconds later, the post vanished without a trace. It seemed I wasn’t the one who was truly provoked. A week later was Lily’s death anniversary. In previous years, I had always spent this day alone. I would buy a bouquet of her favorite white daisies and go to the cemetery to talk to her. Daniel always had various excuses for his absence. Either an important meeting or an urgent business trip. This year, just like always, I went to the suburban cemetery with a bouquet of daisies. The photo on the tombstone was taken when Lily was five. In it, she was wearing the yellow sweater I had knitted, smiling with innocent joy. I gently wiped the dust from the photo, speaking softly to her. “Lily, Mommy came to see you.” “Mommy moved recently, to a very quiet place.” “Mommy’s knitting you a new sweater. When it’s finished, I’ll burn it for you, so you won’t be cold over there…” As I spoke, my voice choked with emotion. Faint footsteps sounded behind me. I assumed it was a cemetery worker and didn’t turn around. Until a familiar voice spoke above my head. “Amelia?” I spun around abruptly and saw Daniel. He looked thinner, with faint dark circles under his eyes, his expression haggard. What shocked me even more was that he wasn’t alone. Beside him stood Stella Reed and her daughter Lucy. And on Lucy, starkly visible, was *that* yellow sweater. In that instant, all the blood in my body froze. “What are you doing here?” My voice trembled slightly with anger. Daniel seemed oblivious to my distress. He placed the chrysanthemums Stella was holding in front of the tombstone and sighed. “I brought Stella and Lucy to see Lily.” Stella also stepped forward, bowing to the tombstone, and said softly, “Lily, Aunt Stella came to see you. Don’t blame your daddy, he always had you in his heart.” I let out a cold laugh. “Daniel Miller, what right does she have to visit my daughter? Your friend? Your neighbor?” I paused, my gaze like a knife. “Or your first love?” At that, Daniel and Stella’s faces both changed. Daniel instinctively stepped forward, shielding Stella, and snapped fiercely, “Amelia Stone! What nonsense are you spouting?! Don’t you dare tarnish Stella’s reputation here!” The more he defended her, the more he confirmed the truth. “Nonsense, you say?” I advanced on him, step by step. “Your girlfriend from college, the one you dated for three years, wasn’t her name Stella Reed? Later, her family ran into trouble, and she left without a word, and you were depressed for an entire year because of it. Did you think I didn’t know?” “You married me simply because I was honest, easy to control, a ‘suitable wife’ for settling down.” “And you think I don’t know? The apartment Stella lives in now? You bought it for her!”
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