I had just undergone stomach cancer surgery and survived daily immunotherapy. Then I saw it on social media—my wife had transferred our house to her “old friend.” She said he was just a single father and told me to be more understanding. But to accompany him on a test drive of his new luxury car, She not only forgot my birthday, she also left me alone at the hospital on a rainy night. That was the day I stopped waiting for her to turn back and contacted a divorce lawyer instead. My wife Skylar Anderson’s “old friend,” Caleb Thompson, posted a photo of a deed on Instagram. The caption read, “Huge thanks to my big sister for signing this house over to me.” I looked at the address on the deed, stunned; it was our home. I commented with a single question mark, “?” Moments later, Skylar called, snapping at me, “He’s a single dad, drowning in bills and trying to keep a roof over his daughter’s head in a good school district. It doesn’t affect where we live.” Her tone was all reproach. “Can’t you show a little compassion?” From the other end, I could even hear Caleb’s mumbled complaints. A half hour later, Caleb posted again, tagging me to make sure I’d see it. This time, it was a brand-new, fully paid-for Mercedes-Benz. The caption: “As the saying goes, where a woman’s money goes, so does her love.” I knew it was Skylar’s gift to pacify him. But this time, I’d made up my mind—I was going to file for divorce. When Skylar got home, I swallowed my daily dose of immunotherapy meds, washing it down with a piece of birthday cake. This was the medication I needed after surgery for stomach cancer. I’d bought the cake in advance, hoping to surprise her and share the news about my surgery while she’d been away on business. I’d been waiting since morning, but she wasn’t picking up, not even responding to my messages. It was only when I commented on Caleb’s post about the deed that she immediately called back—angry and accusatory. Before I could even get a word in, she’d hung up and blocked me. My wound reopened from the stress. She barely glanced at the cake or the medication on the table, wrinkling her nose. “Whose birthday is it? Yours?” In silence, I put the meds away and tossed the cake in the trash. “Not mine—it’s for a friend.” A flicker of relief crossed her face. “Good, I thought it was the 28th. Today’s only the 8th.” Five years married, and she got my birthday wrong every single year. The funny thing? She remembered someone else’s perfectly. She sat down beside me and handed me a toy car. “Caleb asked me to give this to you. He was pretty shaken by your passive-aggressive attitude. You should apologize.” The little car was a Mercedes-Benz keychain, probably one of the trinkets they throw in when you buy the car—smudged with oil, no less. “No thanks,” I said flatly. Skylar’s expression turned sour. “What’s with the attitude? He even offered you a peace gesture. Can’t you show a bit of grace and apologize?” When I didn’t respond, Skylar grabbed my arm, pulling me up with such force that my injured leg struck the coffee table. It was the same leg that had been burned last week by scalding hot porridge she’d accidentally spilled when texting Caleb. Seeing blood seep from the wound again, she looked worried. “Let me take you to the hospital.” I didn’t refuse. “Fine.” As soon as we were in the car, her Bluetooth connected, and Caleb’s voice filled the silence, playful and warm. “Welcome back, big sister! Keep making money for me to spend, okay?” Skylar’s face tightened. “It’s just something he left in my car last time. I’ll get rid of it.” “Don’t bother,” I muttered. Silence filled the car, and she looked at me, surprised. “You’re not angry?” I pressed my lips together. Caleb used to matter to me. But now? I could hardly even care about Skylar, much less her pet. “Just drive,” I said quietly. “It’s late.” The hospital was only a half-mile away, just a straight drive and a U-turn. But Skylar’s phone rang, and I heard Caleb on the line, asking her to take him for a ride in the new Mercedes. “Something’s come up with Caleb,” she said, pulling over. “You can just walk the last fifty yards, right?” She was practically itching to go. “I can’t walk,” I said, holding her gaze. Her expression turned frosty. “Are you serious? You’re a grown man, not an invalid!” She opened the door and practically pushed me out, saying to call her once I’d taken care of my bandages. Her tires splashed filthy water over my leg as she sped off. Rain started to fall, soaking through my bandages. I took a few steps before pain shot through my abdomen, and I collapsed on the crosswalk, unable to move. I barely avoided getting hit, thanks to the hospital’s security guard, who rushed over and helped me in. Back home, barely settled, Skylar stormed in, furious. “I told you to call me once you’d changed the bandages! I waited at the hospital for an hour, but your phone was off!” I stared at her.
I’d spent two hours on an IV and eventually had to call a cab when I couldn’t take the pain any longer. My phone had only just died, but clearly, she’d never been at the hospital. Once, she’d cared so much. When had she turned so cold? “You blocked me, Skylar,” I said. “I couldn’t call you even if I’d wanted to.” Her face softened slightly, and she pulled out a takeout container. “I figured you’d be hungry. Brought you some porridge.” I looked at the bowl. It was plain, just a sprinkle of scallions—no meat, no eggs, as if it were someone’s leftovers. An hour ago, Caleb’s Instagram Story had shown Skylar cooking in the kitchen. “Who says good women don’t exist? She not only took me for a midnight ride in her new Mercedes, but when I got hungry, she whipped me up some porridge, too.” I stirred the bowl, feeling a wave of nausea. “I don’t want it.” Skylar’s expression turned dark. “What’s wrong with you? I brought this for you, and you’re throwing a tantrum?” “So what if I signed the house over to Caleb? You still get to live here. All he did was say thank you. And you embarrassed us both by commenting. Have I even gotten mad about that?” With fresh stitches in my stomach and an injured leg, I barely had the strength to speak. “I was just shocked it was our address on his post…” But Skylar cut me off. “Shocked? Caleb’s right—you’re just that kind of person. Always quick to anger, no empathy, no tolerance. Anytime I speak to a man, you get all paranoid. You’re the one with issues!” In the past, I would’ve tried to reason with her. But this time, I just stared, letting her rant until she was breathless. When she was done, I said, “You finished? Mind turning off the light?” She shot me a cold glare before slamming the door. After she left, I slept soundly for the first time in a long time. The next day, I contacted a friend for a divorce lawyer. She’d been gone for three days since that argument, but when I saw a new photo Samantha posted from their beach trip, there was Skylar in matching clothes with Caleb, beaming by his side. I liked the photo without a second thought. Skylar called back immediately. “I’ll pick you up later. My friends are meeting us at the beach.” She paused, adding, “I wasn’t planning on inviting you. Consider it a reward for good behavior.” “Sure,” I replied, hiding the ongoing divorce process. When Skylar arrived, it surprised me that Caleb wasn’t in the car, too. At the beach, Samantha greeted me with an apology. “I planned that meet-up last time—I should’ve given you a heads up. I’ll make up for it later.” I forced a smile. “Been swamped with work.” “Word is, you’re planning to open a branch in Aspen Ridge. Congratulations!” Samantha said, laying it on thick. I nodded. “It’s still in the works. Not sure if it’ll pan out.” Skylar walked over, face taut. “You’re moving to Aspen Ridge? Since when? Did I say you could go?” I met her furious gaze, unflinching. She continued to rant while Samantha tried to smooth things over, ushering us toward the cookout. As we sat by the grill, Skylar whispered, almost nervous, “Caleb and I agreed. After his daughter finishes elementary school, he’ll sign the house back over. Don’t get so worked up—it’s my property. I didn’t even have to explain.” “Alright,” I said, nodding calmly. As I replied, I noticed a familiar figure approaching. A young woman with them shouted, “Caleb! Skylar’s over here!” Everyone froze.
Samantha kicked the girl, cursing her for being so tactless. I stood and excused myself, heading toward the restroom to gather my composure. When I returned, they were playing games by the fire. Caleb and Skylar sat close, laughing. I found a spot farther away, watching quietly. “Alright, truth or dare!” Samantha suggested, trying to revive the mood. Skylar won the first round, and Caleb chose “truth.” “What’s made you happiest recently?” Skylar asked, giving him a pass. Caleb smiled, staring meaningfully at her. “I met an incredible woman who gave me a house and a car. She even took me on a midnight ride in her new Mercedes.” He glanced at me with a triumphant smirk. Everyone knew the house and car were Skylar’s doing, but they’d kept quiet out of politeness. But here, laid bare, the tension was thick. Samantha cleared her throat. “Alright, round two! Let’s see what we’ve got next.” This time, Caleb chose me. “Truth,” I said. Caleb stepped up with a grin. “How about a dare, Nathan?” I shook my head. “Truth.” He looked put out, his gaze drifting to Skylar. “Didn’t Skylar say you’re an amazing swimmer? Why not show us?” I refused, “I’m not feeling well.” Caleb glanced at Skylar with a hurt look, and she pressed, “It’s your specialty! Why not just swim a lap? It won’t kill you.” Ignoring my protests, they pulled me to the water’s edge, taunting me with every step. My abdomen throbbed from recent surgery, but they kept pushing. Finally, Skylar shoved me into the freezing water. I coughed as salt stung my throat and lungs, waves crashing over my head. I barely surfaced, gasping for air. As I struggled to shore, Skylar smiled at Caleb, whispering assurances. Then, she turned to me with a sneer. “Apologize to Caleb and take a drink—or else.” I looked at her, heart pounding with exhaustion and anger. “Skylar, I’ve already contacted my lawyer. We’re getting divorced.” She stared at me, eyes wide with shock. I stumbled back to the road. Before I could make it across, everything went black. I heard someone yell, “He’s bleeding—call an ambulance!”
I don’t know how much time passed before I regained consciousness, but the first thing I heard was Lucas Mitchell’s furious voice by my bedside. “Skylar, are you out of your mind? Forcing him to swim? He just had surgery to remove a stomach tumor! You didn’t know that?” “He… he just had surgery? Why didn’t he tell me?” Skylar’s voice sounded shocked, laced with a pang of regret. Lucas was fuming. “Are you blind? Haven’t you noticed how pale he’s been? Or have your eyes been glued to Caleb the whole time?” If it weren’t for the hospital setting, I could imagine Lucas slapping her right then. “I… I really didn’t know…” He scoffed. “Oh, but you knew about signing the house over to that wannabe hero and buying him a car, didn’t you? You think it’s a mystery why he’s so drained? It’s because you stressed him out so much his stitches tore open!” “I…” “Enough. Just seeing you is annoying. Leave.” As the room fell silent again, I opened my eyes slowly. Lucas sat next to me, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “You awake? Are you in any pain?” I managed a weak smile. “You know everything, don’t you?” Lucas sighed, looking disappointed. “Didn’t I tell you from the start not to marry her? Now look where it’s gotten you. Too little, too late.” Thinking back, I felt a pang of regret myself. If I hadn’t been so infatuated, my parents would have never allowed this marriage, despite Skylar’s family’s wealth. I remembered overhearing Skylar’s mother in the restroom during a family dinner before the wedding. She was on the phone, saying, “Oh, the wedding costs? Sure, they’re being reasonable. But her fiancé’s family… let’s just say their contribution isn’t quite what we hoped. We’ll match their energy, that’s all.” That night, I couldn’t help but tell Skylar what her mother had said. It wasn’t about the money; it was the contempt in her mother’s voice. Skylar promised to talk to her mother and settle the matter, but it was never mentioned again. Three years into our marriage, Skylar drunkenly confessed, “Of course I knew about scaling back the contribution. My mom asked me first. Nathan, you’re just so gullible—no wonder they say devoted men are the easiest to fool.” Seeing her in that cold light now, I realized how shallow she truly was. At some point, Skylar walked back into the hospital room, staring at me with a hint of sorrow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d just had surgery…” I looked at her, a chill running through me, and interrupted her coldly, “I know you like Caleb. Let’s just get divorced so you can be with him. I wish you two all the best.” “I don’t want a divorce!” Skylar’s voice rose, and she stammered, “He and I… there’s nothing going on. I married you because I wanted to be with you, not him.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Really? Skylar, you’re the one who said that night you’d be with Caleb if you could. You even said you regretted accepting my proposal and would marry him if we divorced.” That night, Skylar had come home drunk, with Caleb practically carrying her in. I’d been sleeping in the guest room, but I heard everything clearly. Skylar clung to Caleb’s waist, whispering, “I regret it… How did I let myself say yes to him?” Caleb glanced towards the guest room, smirking as he replied, “And if you got divorced? Who would you marry then?” “You, of course. If I got divorced, I’d marry you in a heartbeat. Stay with me tonight, please?” That night, Caleb left, disgusted by the mess Skylar had made all over herself. Now, looking back, I knew that the fact I hadn’t burst into the room to fight him meant I’d already lost hope in Skylar. The time we spent together after that was just a process of slowly letting go. Lucas finally managed to get Skylar to leave the room. But soon after, my phone buzzed nonstop as Skylar pulled me off her blocklist. Message after message appeared on my screen: “I asked around, and chicken soup is good for recovery. I’ll make some for you later.” “You shouldn’t eat cold stuff; I ordered some supplements for you.” “I know I messed up. Can we just start over?” I set her messages to “Do Not Disturb” and asked the nurse to transfer me to a VIP suite, making it clear I didn’t want any visitors. When Skylar called to say she wanted to see me, I finally answered, irritation evident in my tone. “Skylar, I don’t want to see you right now. Let’s finalize the divorce after I’ve recovered, okay?” There was silence on the other end before she responded softly, “I’ll just look at you from afar; I won’t bother you.” I ended the call and turned off my phone. Three days later, as I was discharged, Skylar was already waiting at the hospital entrance, a smile lighting up her face. “Leaving already? Let me take you home.” I didn’t argue, climbing into her car. As soon as she started the engine, the Bluetooth connected, and Caleb’s voice filled the car. “Welcome back, big sister! Keep working hard and making that money for me!”
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