My ex-husband, Asher, and I ran into each other at a friend’s bachelorette party. My friend playfully asked me: “Hazel, have you ever experienced betrayal?” Whether I had or not, my ex-husband knew better than anyone. “Hazel…” Asher shot me a look, clearly terrified I’d answer that question. In the five years since our divorce, he’d become infamous for doting on his wife. Everyone knew he and his current wife were madly in love. But no one knew that Asher’s picture-perfect family? I paid for it with half my life. In the dimly lit private room, with music thumping. The noise was constant. Yet, when that question was asked, Everyone held their breath. Even Asher beside me. His breathing hitched. No one knew that his current wife used to be his secretary. And the woman who broke up our marriage. His mistress. “Why did I even ask that? If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to…” My friend saw my silence and didn’t press further. But I calmly raised my head. And smiled. “I have. But… it’s just petty, messy stuff that’s too embarrassing to even talk about.” My casual words. Made Asher’s face go a shade paler. His knuckles, gripping the wine glass, went white. The way he looked at me. Gone was the contempt and disdain from five years ago. Instead, I saw a flicker of brokenness and helplessness in his eyes. My answer instantly piqued everyone’s interest in the room. Someone remarked, “I thought only those less fortunate in looks struggled to find true love. Never thought someone as stunning as you would suffer betrayal?!” “Who was it? Do we know them?” Maya, my best friend, seized the moment, leaning in with a furious glare. “Are you kidding me, Hazel? Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” she hissed, practically biting my ear. I opened my mouth, about to say something. Then she added, regretfully, “Didn’t you used to have a huge crush on Asher? Why didn’t you confess after graduation? Instead, you ended up with someone else?” “Look how much he dotes on his wife now! Good men like him are practically extinct. Hazel, you messed up!” Hearing her words, I swirled my glass. A bitter memory surfaced: Asher and his secretary, entangled in our marital bed, five years ago. I was six months pregnant then. Seeing that, I snapped. Rushing in, I grabbed our wedding photo and hurled it at them. Asher shielded her tightly in his arms, covering her body with *my* nightgown. Then he actually *scolded* me: “Are you done making a scene? If so, get out and close the door.” I cried, asking him why he was doing this to me. Asher showed no remorse. Instead, he pulled Layla closer by the waist. He said, “Hazel, just look at those stretch marks on your belly – they’re like worms. Don’t you find them utterly repulsive?” “Stop making a fuss. After you have the baby and get your figure back, I’ll break it off with her.” I had thought the stretch marks on my belly were proof of our love. But I never imagined it would become a dagger aimed straight at my heart. I calmed down, little by little. And quietly said, “You don’t need to break up with her. We’re getting a divorce.”
He didn’t respond to my words. He just quietly informed my parents. They showed up quickly. My mom, though, *scolded* me. “What rich man isn’t a playboy? As long as he hasn’t asked for a divorce, you just enjoy being a wealthy wife! What good would divorce do you?” My mom even stood on the balcony, threatening me, “If you dare divorce him, I’ll end myself right here!” And Asher? He just looked at me with disdain. I was forced to compromise, no longer mentioning divorce. Now, at the party, Maya didn’t get a response from me and gently nudged me. “What are you thinking about? Are you regretting not confessing to Asher? It’s too late to regret it now, though. He’s already got a wife.” I *was* regretting. Regretting confessing to Asher right after college graduation. Regretting staying with him from a cramped, rundown apartment to a luxurious villa. Regretting being foolishly naive back then, asking for nothing when we married, and agreeing to keep our marriage a secret. My stomach churned uncomfortably, and I slowly set down my glass. But Asher moved my glass to his side. Then pushed a plate of peeled oranges in front of me. I love oranges, but I hate peeling them. He always used to peel them for me, then place them in front of me. I didn’t eat the orange he offered, instead picking up some grapes. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. “Hazel, you used to hate grapes, didn’t you?” His abrupt question snagged Maya’s attention. Maya asked curiously, “How do you know Hazel dislikes grapes?” Instantly. All eyes in the room turned to us again. He opened his mouth, then closed it, holding back his words. Just then, his phone rang. Then Layla’s shrill voice cut through the air. “Asher! Where are you? Why aren’t you home yet? Are you with some slut behind my back? You’d better get your ass home, *now*! If I find out you’re messing around, I swear I’ll make you both pay!”
The buzzing crowd went dead silent the moment he answered. Asher’s face became incredibly grim. One of Asher’s friends quickly leaned towards the phone. “Layla, this is a totally legit get-together, just friends. I swear Asher hasn’t spoken to any other woman!” That made his face twist even more. He didn’t say anything, just hung up the phone. Maya said, “Alright, it’s getting late. Let’s call it a night. You all better be on time for my wedding tomorrow!” The party broke up. Maya and I strolled out, but saw Asher, who’d left earlier, standing by his car. Seeing us emerge, he strode towards us. “I’ll drive you home.” I was about to refuse, but Maya beat me to it. “Oh, sure, that would be great! Thanks! Your wife won’t get mad, though, right?” Asher froze, glancing instinctively at me. “No, she won’t. Get in.” I didn’t refuse, just shrugged and got into the back seat with Maya. As soon as we were in the car, Maya couldn’t stop asking questions. “You said you were betrayed earlier. What happened? Why didn’t I know?” I clearly caught Asher’s guilty expression in the rearview mirror. Then, I casually recounted the past, events I’d almost managed to forget. The second time I asked Asher for a divorce was when I was eight months pregnant. Layla brazenly moved her bags into *our* marital home. I couldn’t stand it. I lunged at her, ready to throw her out. But Asher pushed me away. My heavy, pregnant body tumbled uncontrollably down the stairs. In a matter of minutes, my baby was gone. The child who never got to be born. His own father had personally snuffed out his hope of life. I woke up in the hospital. I touched my belly, no longer feeling the life within, and broke down sobbing. He knelt before me, consumed by guilt, slapping his own face, over and over. “Hazel, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, I didn’t mean to. Can you please forgive me?” For the first time, I saw guilt on his cheating face. But I couldn’t tell how much of his guilt was genuine. I didn’t want to see him anymore. I grabbed the vase from the nightstand and hurled it at him. I screamed and yelled. “Divorce, Asher! I want a divorce!” That very night. My parents came again. They once again pressured me not to divorce. I looked at them, numb, and got out of the hospital bed. My mom, thinking I’d caved again, her eyes brightening, smiled and said, “Hazel, I knew you’d listen to me…” She hadn’t finished speaking. I stepped into the cool autumn night. Climbed over the balcony. And let myself fall, emptying my mind as my body plummeted. Finally, I broke a leg. In exchange for a cold, hard divorce certificate.
As I recounted the past, my heart no longer held any emotion. But Maya beside me was crying. She choked out, “How… how could they? How dare they… do that to you?” Maya and I had known each other since elementary school. During the years Asher and I were married, she had moved abroad with her parents. I’d wanted to reach out to her countless times, to find some solace. But when I saw her online, holding her baby, with her loving husband beside her, I hung up the phone again. Asher, in the driver’s seat, his eyes bloodshot, gripped the steering wheel tight, desperately trying to suppress his emotions. I chuckled lightly, casually patting Maya’s back as she sobbed uncontrollably. “It’s all in the past!” “No, it’s not! This isn’t past! Who was that jerk? I’m going to kill him! How dare he treat you like that?!” Maya cried and yelled, then dissolved into endless self-blame. She looked at me, choking, “You must have been so heartbroken then. I wish I had been there.” Maya’s husband and child were still waiting for her at the hotel. I told her to go back to the hotel first. Watching her get out and walk towards the hotel, I opened my car door and stepped out too. “Hazel, this isn’t your hotel yet…” Asher got out urgently, trying to grab my hand. I quickly dodged him, taking a step back. “You should go back. If you’re any later, she’ll start a fight with you,” I said. “No, I can’t leave until I see you home safely. I’m worried.” Asher dropped all pretense, begging, “I know you still hate me, but… can you give me a chance to make amends?” I looked up at him, my eyes flashing with sarcasm. “Asher, save your ridiculous, cheap attempts at appeasement. It’s disgusting.” With that, I didn’t look at him again, turning to walk towards a taxi parked on the side of the road. The next day, Maya and I arrived at the wedding venue on time. Asher was also there early. Someone joked, asking why he hadn’t brought his wife. He seemed to truly dislike bringing up Layla. When she was mentioned. A clear flicker of impatience crossed his eyes, and he brushed it off. “Something came up at home. It wasn’t convenient for her to be here.” I didn’t pay attention, continuing to chat with Maya. After what I told her last night, she was even more clingy. I couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re a mom now, why are you still so clingy? Aren’t you afraid your kids will tease you?” Then, Asher, dressed sharply in a suit, took the seat next to me. Maya raised an eyebrow, about to say something. Then, a shrill, piercing voice ripped through the air behind us. Before I could react. Someone grabbed my hair and yanked me to the ground. A stinging slap landed instantly. “You shameless slut! Why did you come back after you left? Are you trying to seduce my husband again?” “Everyone, look! The ‘Goddess Hazel’ you all praise? She’s absolutely shameless, a known home-wrecker!”
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