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Seven Years of Waiting My Husband Had Another Family

NovelMaster · English · Theater: NovelMaster, Lang: English, Genre: Realistic ·

Seven Years of Waiting My Husband Had Another Family

Theater: NovelMaster  |  Language: English  |  NEW

Synopsis

Sean was leaving for a remote research station out in the wilderness. Before he left, he held my hands and said:
"Wendy, conditions out there are brutal, and the brass doesn't allow families to tag along. Home needs you, too. Bear with it for three years. I'll be back before you know it."
Yet three years turned into another three. I waited for Sean for seven whole years.
He never came home.
A phone call every five days, a FaceTime call once a month, and our only face-to-face time relied on his meager seven days of annual leave.
Yet I never uttered a single complaint, terrified of holding his career back.
It wasn't until I got pregnant that my emergency spousal visit request was finally approved.
After a bumpy trip across thousands of miles, I knocked eagerly on his staff apartment door. A little girl opened it:
"Daddy, someone's here! I don't know her!"
I thought I had the wrong door.
The next second, Sean's doting voice drifted from inside:
"Sweetheart, Daddy's busy right now. I'll have Mommy go check."
His assistant, Tiffany, came to the door.
The moment she saw me, she froze, utterly speechless:
"Wendy, what are you doing here..."
Clutching my belly, my heart, which had hung in limbo for seven years, finally went cold.
It turned out Sean wasn't unable to care for a family. He just wasn't caring for mine.
Seeing that nobody was moving at the door, Sean finally put down his documents and walked out of the study.
When he saw it was me, he had the exact same reaction as Tiffany, stammering in shock:
"Wendy, why did you come so suddenly..."
I sighed softly, cutting him off.
"I'm exhausted. I'd like to come in and sit down first."
"Do you want me to change into slippers?"
Tiffany finally snapped out of it, hurriedly pulling a pair of women's slippers from the shoe cabinet and handing them to me.
They were half a size too big—her size.
I said nothing, slipped them on, and sat on the living room sofa.
Holding the little girl's hand, Tiffany forced a smile at me.
"Wendy, you and Sean talk."
"Lily, come here. Mommy will take you back to your room. Let's not interrupt Daddy while he's talking."
I raised my eyes and gave her a flat look.
She paused, seemingly realizing her slip of the tongue.
She gave me a timid glance, as if terrified I would make a scene right then and there, and hurried to explain:
"Wendy, don't misunderstand. This child is..."
Sean scrambled to his feet.
He stepped protectively in front of Tiffany and the child, watching me with guarded eyes:
"Wendy, she's Tiffany's kid from her previous marriage. We were worried Lily would get bullied at school without a father, so we let her call me Daddy. Tiffany and I are really just colleagues."
I said nothing.
I reached out, patted the little girl's head, and looked up at Tiffany.
"No need to make tea. Once you settle the kid in, come over and join us."
"Whatever Sean and I have to talk about involves you anyway."
Tiffany clearly hadn't expected me to react so calmly.
After speaking, I sat back down on the sofa.
Sean sat across from me, at a total loss for words, looking at me with bewilderment.
He was probably shocked by how calm and composed I was.
It was nothing, really.
Seven years was more than enough to drain the life out of someone.
My grievances, my anger, my resentment had been ground to dust long ago.
The flirtatious female voice often heard in the background of his calls, the woman's nightgown strap flashing in the corner of our FaceTime calls, even his annual leave cut short due to "emergencies."
I wasn't an idiot. Pretending not to notice until now was only because I wanted proper closure for these seven years of marriage.
Tiffany returned and naturally sat down right beside Sean.
I watched it all, knowing that I was the actual outsider in this house.
Sean spoke first.
"I'm sorry, Wendy. I overreacted just now. Don't take it to heart."
"I was just so surprised. Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I could've gone to the station to pick you up."
With that, he reached out to hold my hand.
I pulled away.
I looked down with a self-deprecating smile, pulling out a folder from my bag.
On top was a thick stack of rejected visitor applications from the past seven years.
Every single one stamped with a bright red REJECTED.
The reason: [Rejected by Sean Miller himself].
"If I hadn't gone directly to your director, I never would've known that you were the one who personally rejected every single one of my requests all these years."
"If I had told you in advance, would you have ever let me come?"
Sean glanced at the papers, looking away with guilt written all over his face.
"Wendy, the project was in a critical phase back then. I really couldn't step away. I couldn't afford any distractions. That's why..."
"You've been busy for seven years. You had time to take your colleague's kid to sports days and summer camps, but no time to let your own wife visit for a reunion?"
Sean froze.
I pointed toward the framed photos sitting under the TV cabinet.
"I see the date on that photo says March 7th of this year. I remember calling you that day. I told you I had just been in a car crash and barely made it out of the ICU. You told me you were too busy with the project to come back, and told me to be strong on my own."
"So that 'critical project' was just attending a parent-child sports day for your colleague's daughter?"
Sean lowered his hands, his fists clenching involuntarily.
Tiffany jumped in to defend him:
"Wendy, please don't get the wrong idea."
"Things were genuinely critical back then. Sean only squeezed out a tiny bit of free time to accompany Lily."
"Right," I replied calmly.
Looking at the two of them huddled together like I was some monster coming to wreck their happy family, I found it almost comical.
I asked myself in my heart: Wendy, is this the home you spent seven years waiting for?
I couldn't answer.
I simply moved the visitor requests aside.
From beneath, I pulled out two documents and laid them side by side on the coffee table.
One was a pregnancy test report.
The other was a divorce agreement.
"Don't worry. I'm not here to start a fight. Pointing fingers is pointless now. Sean, I'm pregnant. As the child's father, you have a right to know. That was my reason for coming here."
"But I'm not keeping this baby. I'm here to divorce you."Sean was stunned by the rapid succession of bombshells. He sat there, frozen, unable to process it.
I slung my bag over my shoulder, held my lower back, and stood up.
"I've said everything I came to say. I won't disrupt your home any longer. I booked a hotel in town."
"Just sign the papers as soon as you can and let me know when to pick them up."
With that, I turned toward the door and left.
Just as I was about to exit the apartment building, frantic footsteps echoed behind me.
Sean caught up with me.
"Wendy! Wendy!"
I didn't stop.
Sean cut in front of me, blocking my path.
He grabbed my wrist tightly, his eyes bloodshot, his voice trembling:
"No divorce! We can't get divorced!"
"Don't you love me anymore? Why does it have to come to this? And... the baby. It wasn't easy for this child to come into the world. You can't abort it! I really can't bear to lose you both."
I looked at Sean.
A bitter ache surged through my chest, and I sniffled softly.
"Then submit an application to transfer back immediately. Sean, you've been absent for seven years."
"For the rest of my life, my home can't be without a husband, and my child can't have just a mother without a father."
Sean went silent.
I knew what he was hesitating about. He still couldn't let go of Tiffany and her daughter.
I pried his fingers off my wrist and kept walking forward.
"If you can't do it, then sign the divorce papers."
The word "divorce" seemed to trigger him.
He rushed in front of me again, his voice desperate:
"I can! I can do it! I want you, and I want our baby."
"Come on, let's go to HR right now. My three-year service term expired years ago. I can file an immediate transfer back to headquarters."
Sean said this, moving to pull me along with him.
Then his phone rang.
I caught a glimpse of the caller ID: "Tiffany." I averted my eyes.
I didn't try to stop him.
I used to stop him before.
Back then, Sean would just shove me away, his face hardening as he scolded me:
"Wendy, grow up. It could be work-related. Can you stop being so petty?"
Then he would answer and speak to Tiffany in the gentlest tone imaginable.
So now, I just watched him in silence.
Sean instinctively went to answer it, but seeing my cold stare, he offered a strained, awkward smile and declined the call.
He took my hand again.
"Wendy, let's go."
"I promise, from now on, nothing is more important than us."
Feeling the long-lost warmth of his palm, a small corner of my heart softened.
I managed a slight smile and let him lead me.
We barely took two steps.
The phone rang again.
Still Tiffany.
Sean's expression shifted, but he declined it once more.
Only, his footsteps slowed down.
Until the phone rang a third time.
Sean stopped completely, turning back to give me a strained smile.
"Tiffany wouldn't call this urgently unless something happened."
"Let me just take this."
Without waiting for my reply, Sean pulled his hand from mine and answered the phone.
Faintly, I heard Tiffany's hysterical voice through the receiver, mixed with a little girl's terrified wails.
"Sean, Lily got burned!"
"I don't know what to do! Please, come quickly!"
No explanation, no reassurance.
I watched as Sean turned and sprinted back without looking back once.
The faint smile from when he held my hand was still frozen on my lips.
It stretched wider and wider, grotesque and uncontrollable.
Until my face twisted into a mad grin, before I finally buried my face in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably.
Sean, I gave our marriage one last chance.
And you still ran away.
The last trace of hope inside me died.
I turned around and continued walking toward the hotel.
Back in my room, I booked a ticket to leave in three days.
I hit pay.
The moment the booking confirmation popped up, Sean's long-overdue text flashed on the screen:
[Where are you?][At the hotel.]
I replied tersely. Sean immediately called me.
"Wendy, Lily got badly burned. She's in the hospital right now."
"Go back to the apartment and pack a few changes of clothes for Tiffany and me. Then make some soup and a few dishes. Tiffany's been running around all day without a bite to eat. Hospital food turns her stomach; she can't eat it."
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
Pressing my throbbing temples with my fingers, I reminded him as calmly as possible:
"Sean, I'm pregnant. The smell of cooking fumes makes me throw up."
There was a brief pause on the other end.
Then came Tiffany's tearful, hesitant voice:
"Sean, let's not trouble Wendy. I can be strong. I'll just rest a bit and cook myself..."
"I'm right here, why do you need to be strong?!"
With that, Sean hung up abruptly.
A second later, another text arrived.
[Just endure it for a bit.]
[The door code is 0718. Hospital room 1456. Bring an extra blanket for Tiffany. The hospital AC is freezing, and I don't want her catching a cold.]
I stared at the familiar passcode. It was our wedding anniversary.
How brutally ironic.
I entered the code and let myself into Sean's apartment.
On the refrigerator in the kitchen was a sticky note in Sean's handwriting:
[Tiffany, I made lunch and left it in the fridge. Just heat it up for you and Lily. I'm heading out. Get some rest and sleep in.]
So, Sean knew how to cook after all.
A sharp pain pierced my chest. I forced myself to ignore it.
Fighting the violent nausea swirling in my stomach, I tied on an apron and turned on the stove. Halfway through, my body gave out. I collapsed over the sink, vomiting until I was choking on bitter bile.
Splashing cold water on my pale face, I packed the food into containers.
Then, pushing through my exhaustion, I went to Tiffany's wardrobe.
When I slid the door open, the bottom shelves were overflowing with gifts Sean had bought her. They were neatly organized with dates labeled, the gift boxes preserved in pristine condition.
The earliest was from seven years ago—the second day Sean had arrived here.
The most recent was from yesterday. The sticky note bore Sean's neat script:
[Saw this and thought it would look gorgeous on you, so I bought it.]
I squeezed my eyes shut, searching my memories.
In the end, all I could do was shake my head in bitter mockery.
In all our years of marriage, Sean had never once given me a gift.
A call every five days, a FaceTime call once a month, seeing each other for only seven miserable days a year.
Gifts?
To me, that was an unimaginable luxury.
I packed her clothes and shut the wardrobe door.
Before leaving, I picked up the divorce agreement resting on the coffee table.
Let's sign it today.
Seven years was long enough. I couldn't drag this out for another second.
When I arrived at the hospital room with the bags, Tiffany was leaning against Sean's shoulder, asleep.
I glanced at the empty visitor's cot beside them and lowered my eyes.
I set the things on the table.
The sound was barely a whisper, but Tiffany jerked awake anyway.
She scrambled up, anxiously explaining:
"Wendy, don't get the wrong idea."
"I was just so scared and exhausted, so I leaned on Sean's shoulder for a quick rest."
I didn't answer right away.
I looked at Lily lying in the hospital bed, thick gauze wrapped around her shoulder, sleeping fitfully.
Only then did I respond.
"It's fine. How is the girl?"
"Severe burns on her shoulder. She might need skin grafts later. The doctor said it'll likely leave a permanent scar. Wendy, can I beg you for a favor? Could you lend Sean to me for a while? If I have to do this alone, I'll completely break down."
As Tiffany spoke, tears began rolling down her cheeks again.
Sean pulled her into his arms, murmuring a few soft words of comfort.
Then he frowned and looked at me, his expression torn.
"Wendy, Lily is in this state. I can't just walk away."
"Think of it as an act of mercy. Just let me stay here at the hospital to take care of them."I looked at Sean and nodded silently.
I simply pulled the divorce agreement and a pen from my bag and handed them to him.
"Sign it."
"You can stay with them for as long as you want. It won't be any of my business anymore."
Sean looked down at the papers in my hand, and his temper flared.
Lowering his voice, he glared at me:
"Are you threatening me with a divorce?"
I couldn't fathom what was going through his head.
Seeing that he wasn't taking it, I shoved the papers into his chest.
"It's not a threat. I just can't be with you anymore."
Sean couldn't stand hearing that. He let go of Tiffany.
His brows knotted fiercely as he snapped at me:
"What do you mean you can't be with me anymore?"
"Haven't we been doing fine for the past seven years? Why suddenly can't you do this anymore?!"
Since he asked, I wanted to tell him about all my pain and sorrow.
But Tiffany cut in frantically:
"Wendy, did you have a change of heart?"
"Sean may not be home often, but you're in his heart. You haven't hooked up with another man, have you? That would be adultery. For all we know, the baby in your belly isn't even..."
Hearing this, Sean completely lost his mind.
He seized my wrist, demanding:
"Is that true? Did you cheat on me? Who is he?!"
"Is this baby not even mine?!"
Hearing Tiffany defile my character and slander my unborn child, I couldn't hold back.
I raised my free hand and slapped her across the face with all my might.
"Aren't you two the ones committing adultery?!"
"You shameless homewrecker, don't you dare throw your filth onto my baby!"
Tiffany clutched her cheek, stunned by the blow.
She clearly hadn't expected me to snap.
Immediately, she pretended to swoon, going limp.
"Sean, I feel so dizzy..."
With that, she collapsed directly into Sean's arms.
Seeing this, Sean shoved me violently away and swept the fainting Tiffany into his arms.
I stumbled back two steps, my lower back slamming hard against the sharp corner of the sofa.
A blinding flash of agony shot through my vision. I instinctively clutched my abdomen as waves of dull, tearing cramps radiated up my spine.
I reached out desperately, grabbing the hem of Sean's sleeve, my voice hoarse:
"It hurts... it hurts so bad!"
"Sean, my baby... help me call the doctor..."
Sean looked down at me, sneering as he ripped his sleeve from my grip.
"Now you know what pain feels like?"
"Why didn't you care about pain when you slapped Tiffany?"
"Wendy, stop faking it. That trick won't work on me. I don't have time for your childish drama."
With that, Sean carried Tiffany away, shouting down the corridor:
"Doctor! Doctor, someone fainted in here!"
The cramps in my abdomen tore through me with terrifying intensity.
I tried to scream for help, but no sound came out.
I could only watch with wide, helpless eyes as Sean walked away.
The fluorescent lights overhead began to blur and spin into dizzying halos, until everything drowned in an overwhelming, suffocating red.
Then, I plunged into complete darkness.
The doctor said Tiffany was fine, just fainting from low blood sugar.
Sean had just breathed a sigh of relief when a sudden commotion from down the hall sent a strange wave of panic through his chest.
He got up to check.
Tiffany tugged at his sleeve, whining his name softly.
But this time, Sean didn't stop. He jogged back to the room.
A crowd had already gathered three layers deep outside the door.
Shocked, Sean shoved his way through the onlookers.
Nurses were already lifting me onto a gurney.
A doctor was performing CPR, shouting at the top of his lungs:
"Out of the way! Move!"
"Patient suffered trauma, massive hemorrhage from a miscarriage! Rush her to trauma! She's in critical condition!"

Chapters (4)

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Sean was leaving for a remote research station out in the wilderness. Before he left, he held my hands and said: "Wendy, conditions out there are brutal, and the brass doesn't allow families to tag along. Home needs you, too. Bear with it for three years. I'll be back before you know it." Yet three years turned into another three. I waited for Sean for seven whole years. He never came home. A phone call every five days, a FaceTime call once a month, and our only face-to-face time relied on his meager seven days of annual leave. Yet I never uttered a single complaint, terrified of holding his career back. It wasn't until I got pregnant that my emergency spousal visit request was finally approved. After a bumpy trip across thousands of miles, I knocked eagerly on his staff apartment door. A little girl opened it: "Daddy, someone's here! I don't know her!" I thought I had the wrong door. The next second, Sean's doting voice drifted from inside: "Sweetheart, Daddy's busy right now. I'll have Mommy go check." His assistant, Tiffany, came to the door. The moment she saw me, she froze, utterly speechless: "Wendy, what are you doing here..." Clutching my belly, my heart, which had hung in limbo for seven years, finally went cold. It turned out Sean wasn't unable to care for a family. He just wasn't caring for mine. Seeing that nobody was moving at the door, Sean finally put down his documents and walked out of the study. When he saw it was me, he had the exact same reaction as Tiffany, stammering in shock: "Wendy, why did you come so suddenly..." I sighed softly, cutting him off. "I'm exhausted. I'd like to come in and sit down first." "Do you want me to change into slippers?" Tiffany finally snapped out of it, hurriedly pulling a pair of women's slippers from the shoe cabinet and handing them to me. They were half a size too big—her size. I said nothing, slipped them on, and sat on the living room sofa. Holding the little girl's hand, Tiffany forced a smile at me. "Wendy, you and Sean talk." "Lily, come here. Mommy will take you back to your room. Let's not interrupt Daddy while he's talking." I raised my eyes and gave her a flat look. She paused, seemingly realizing her slip of the tongue. She gave me a timid glance, as if terrified I would make a scene right then and there, and hurried to explain: "Wendy, don't misunderstand. This child is..." Sean scrambled to his feet. He stepped protectively in front of Tiffany and the child, watching me with guarded eyes: "Wendy, she's Tiffany's kid from her previous marriage. We were worried Lily would get bullied at school without a father, so we let her call me Daddy. Tiffany and I are really just colleagues." I said nothing. I reached out, patted the little girl's head, and looked up at Tiffany. "No need to make tea. Once you settle the kid in, come over and join us." "Whatever Sean and I have to talk about involves you anyway." Tiffany clearly hadn't expected me to react so calmly. After speaking, I sat back down on the sofa. Sean sat across from me, at a total loss for words, looking at me with bewilderment. He was probably shocked by how calm and composed I was. It was nothing, really. Seven years was more than enough to drain the life out of someone. My grievances, my anger, my resentment had been ground to dust long ago. The flirtatious female voice often heard in the background of his calls, the woman's nightgown strap flashing in the corner of our FaceTime calls, even his annual leave cut short due to "emergencies." I wasn't an idiot. Pretending not to notice until now was only because I wanted proper closure for these seven years of marriage. Tiffany returned and naturally sat down right beside Sean. I watched it all, knowing that I was the actual outsider in this house. Sean spoke first. "I'm sorry, Wendy. I overreacted just now. Don't take it to heart." "I was just so surprised. Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I could've gone to the station to pick you up." With that, he reached out to hold my hand. I pulled away. I looked down with a self-deprecating smile, pulling out a folder from my bag. On top was a thick stack of rejected visitor applications from the past seven years. Every single one stamped with a bright red REJECTED. The reason: [Rejected by Sean Miller himself]. "If I hadn't gone directly to your director, I never would've known that you were the one who personally rejected every single one of my requests all these years." "If I had told you in advance, would you have ever let me come?" Sean glanced at the papers, looking away with guilt written all over his face. "Wendy, the project was in a critical phase back then. I really couldn't step away. I couldn't afford any distractions. That's why..." "You've been busy for seven years. You had time to take your colleague's kid to sports days and summer camps, but no time to let your own wife visit for a reunion?" Sean froze. I pointed toward the framed photos sitting under the TV cabinet. "I see the date on that photo says March 7th of this year. I remember calling you that day. I told you I had just been in a car crash and barely made it out of the ICU. You told me you were too busy with the project to come back, and told me to be strong on my own." "So that 'critical project' was just attending a parent-child sports day for your colleague's daughter?" Sean lowered his hands, his fists clenching involuntarily. Tiffany jumped in to defend him: "Wendy, please don't get the wrong idea." "Things were genuinely critical back then. Sean only squeezed out a tiny bit of free time to accompany Lily." "Right," I replied calmly. Looking at the two of them huddled together like I was some monster coming to wreck their happy family, I found it almost comical. I asked myself in my heart: Wendy, is this the home you spent seven years waiting for? I couldn't answer. I simply moved the visitor requests aside. From beneath, I pulled out two documents and laid them side by side on the coffee table. One was a pregnancy test report. The other was a divorce agreement. "Don't worry. I'm not here to start a fight. Pointing fingers is pointless now. Sean, I'm pregnant. As the child's father, you have a right to know. That was my reason for coming here." "But I'm not keeping this baby. I'm here to divorce you."

Chapter 2

Sean was stunned by the rapid succession of bombshells. He sat there, frozen, unable to process it. I slung my bag over my shoulder, held my lower back, and stood up. "I've said everything I came to say. I won't disrupt your home any longer. I booked a hotel in town." "Just sign the papers as soon as you can and let me know when to pick them up." With that, I turned toward the door and left. Just as I was about to exit the apartment building, frantic footsteps echoed behind me. Sean caught up with me. "Wendy! Wendy!" I didn't stop. Sean cut in front of me, blocking my path. He grabbed my wrist tightly, his eyes bloodshot, his voice trembling: "No divorce! We can't get divorced!" "Don't you love me anymore? Why does it have to come to this? And... the baby. It wasn't easy for this child to come into the world. You can't abort it! I really can't bear to lose you both." I looked at Sean. A bitter ache surged through my chest, and I sniffled softly. "Then submit an application to transfer back immediately. Sean, you've been absent for seven years." "For the rest of my life, my home can't be without a husband, and my child can't have just a mother without a father." Sean went silent. I knew what he was hesitating about. He still couldn't let go of Tiffany and her daughter. I pried his fingers off my wrist and kept walking forward. "If you can't do it, then sign the divorce papers." The word "divorce" seemed to trigger him. He rushed in front of me again, his voice desperate: "I can! I can do it! I want you, and I want our baby." "Come on, let's go to HR right now. My three-year service term expired years ago. I can file an immediate transfer back to headquarters." Sean said this, moving to pull me along with him. Then his phone rang. I caught a glimpse of the caller ID: "Tiffany." I averted my eyes. I didn't try to stop him. I used to stop him before. Back then, Sean would just shove me away, his face hardening as he scolded me: "Wendy, grow up. It could be work-related. Can you stop being so petty?" Then he would answer and speak to Tiffany in the gentlest tone imaginable. So now, I just watched him in silence. Sean instinctively went to answer it, but seeing my cold stare, he offered a strained, awkward smile and declined the call. He took my hand again. "Wendy, let's go." "I promise, from now on, nothing is more important than us." Feeling the long-lost warmth of his palm, a small corner of my heart softened. I managed a slight smile and let him lead me. We barely took two steps. The phone rang again. Still Tiffany. Sean's expression shifted, but he declined it once more. Only, his footsteps slowed down. Until the phone rang a third time. Sean stopped completely, turning back to give me a strained smile. "Tiffany wouldn't call this urgently unless something happened." "Let me just take this." Without waiting for my reply, Sean pulled his hand from mine and answered the phone. Faintly, I heard Tiffany's hysterical voice through the receiver, mixed with a little girl's terrified wails. "Sean, Lily got burned!" "I don't know what to do! Please, come quickly!" No explanation, no reassurance. I watched as Sean turned and sprinted back without looking back once. The faint smile from when he held my hand was still frozen on my lips. It stretched wider and wider, grotesque and uncontrollable. Until my face twisted into a mad grin, before I finally buried my face in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Sean, I gave our marriage one last chance. And you still ran away. The last trace of hope inside me died. I turned around and continued walking toward the hotel. Back in my room, I booked a ticket to leave in three days. I hit pay. The moment the booking confirmation popped up, Sean's long-overdue text flashed on the screen: [Where are you?]

Chapter 3

[At the hotel.] I replied tersely. Sean immediately called me. "Wendy, Lily got badly burned. She's in the hospital right now." "Go back to the apartment and pack a few changes of clothes for Tiffany and me. Then make some soup and a few dishes. Tiffany's been running around all day without a bite to eat. Hospital food turns her stomach; she can't eat it." I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Pressing my throbbing temples with my fingers, I reminded him as calmly as possible: "Sean, I'm pregnant. The smell of cooking fumes makes me throw up." There was a brief pause on the other end. Then came Tiffany's tearful, hesitant voice: "Sean, let's not trouble Wendy. I can be strong. I'll just rest a bit and cook myself..." "I'm right here, why do you need to be strong?!" With that, Sean hung up abruptly. A second later, another text arrived. [Just endure it for a bit.] [The door code is 0718. Hospital room 1456. Bring an extra blanket for Tiffany. The hospital AC is freezing, and I don't want her catching a cold.] I stared at the familiar passcode. It was our wedding anniversary. How brutally ironic. I entered the code and let myself into Sean's apartment. On the refrigerator in the kitchen was a sticky note in Sean's handwriting: [Tiffany, I made lunch and left it in the fridge. Just heat it up for you and Lily. I'm heading out. Get some rest and sleep in.] So, Sean knew how to cook after all. A sharp pain pierced my chest. I forced myself to ignore it. Fighting the violent nausea swirling in my stomach, I tied on an apron and turned on the stove. Halfway through, my body gave out. I collapsed over the sink, vomiting until I was choking on bitter bile. Splashing cold water on my pale face, I packed the food into containers. Then, pushing through my exhaustion, I went to Tiffany's wardrobe. When I slid the door open, the bottom shelves were overflowing with gifts Sean had bought her. They were neatly organized with dates labeled, the gift boxes preserved in pristine condition. The earliest was from seven years ago—the second day Sean had arrived here. The most recent was from yesterday. The sticky note bore Sean's neat script: [Saw this and thought it would look gorgeous on you, so I bought it.] I squeezed my eyes shut, searching my memories. In the end, all I could do was shake my head in bitter mockery. In all our years of marriage, Sean had never once given me a gift. A call every five days, a FaceTime call once a month, seeing each other for only seven miserable days a year. Gifts? To me, that was an unimaginable luxury. I packed her clothes and shut the wardrobe door. Before leaving, I picked up the divorce agreement resting on the coffee table. Let's sign it today. Seven years was long enough. I couldn't drag this out for another second. When I arrived at the hospital room with the bags, Tiffany was leaning against Sean's shoulder, asleep. I glanced at the empty visitor's cot beside them and lowered my eyes. I set the things on the table. The sound was barely a whisper, but Tiffany jerked awake anyway. She scrambled up, anxiously explaining: "Wendy, don't get the wrong idea." "I was just so scared and exhausted, so I leaned on Sean's shoulder for a quick rest." I didn't answer right away. I looked at Lily lying in the hospital bed, thick gauze wrapped around her shoulder, sleeping fitfully. Only then did I respond. "It's fine. How is the girl?" "Severe burns on her shoulder. She might need skin grafts later. The doctor said it'll likely leave a permanent scar. Wendy, can I beg you for a favor? Could you lend Sean to me for a while? If I have to do this alone, I'll completely break down." As Tiffany spoke, tears began rolling down her cheeks again. Sean pulled her into his arms, murmuring a few soft words of comfort. Then he frowned and looked at me, his expression torn. "Wendy, Lily is in this state. I can't just walk away." "Think of it as an act of mercy. Just let me stay here at the hospital to take care of them."

Chapter 4

I looked at Sean and nodded silently. I simply pulled the divorce agreement and a pen from my bag and handed them to him. "Sign it." "You can stay with them for as long as you want. It won't be any of my business anymore." Sean looked down at the papers in my hand, and his temper flared. Lowering his voice, he glared at me: "Are you threatening me with a divorce?" I couldn't fathom what was going through his head. Seeing that he wasn't taking it, I shoved the papers into his chest. "It's not a threat. I just can't be with you anymore." Sean couldn't stand hearing that. He let go of Tiffany. His brows knotted fiercely as he snapped at me: "What do you mean you can't be with me anymore?" "Haven't we been doing fine for the past seven years? Why suddenly can't you do this anymore?!" Since he asked, I wanted to tell him about all my pain and sorrow. But Tiffany cut in frantically: "Wendy, did you have a change of heart?" "Sean may not be home often, but you're in his heart. You haven't hooked up with another man, have you? That would be adultery. For all we know, the baby in your belly isn't even..." Hearing this, Sean completely lost his mind. He seized my wrist, demanding: "Is that true? Did you cheat on me? Who is he?!" "Is this baby not even mine?!" Hearing Tiffany defile my character and slander my unborn child, I couldn't hold back. I raised my free hand and slapped her across the face with all my might. "Aren't you two the ones committing adultery?!" "You shameless homewrecker, don't you dare throw your filth onto my baby!" Tiffany clutched her cheek, stunned by the blow. She clearly hadn't expected me to snap. Immediately, she pretended to swoon, going limp. "Sean, I feel so dizzy..." With that, she collapsed directly into Sean's arms. Seeing this, Sean shoved me violently away and swept the fainting Tiffany into his arms. I stumbled back two steps, my lower back slamming hard against the sharp corner of the sofa. A blinding flash of agony shot through my vision. I instinctively clutched my abdomen as waves of dull, tearing cramps radiated up my spine. I reached out desperately, grabbing the hem of Sean's sleeve, my voice hoarse: "It hurts... it hurts so bad!" "Sean, my baby... help me call the doctor..." Sean looked down at me, sneering as he ripped his sleeve from my grip. "Now you know what pain feels like?" "Why didn't you care about pain when you slapped Tiffany?" "Wendy, stop faking it. That trick won't work on me. I don't have time for your childish drama." With that, Sean carried Tiffany away, shouting down the corridor: "Doctor! Doctor, someone fainted in here!" The cramps in my abdomen tore through me with terrifying intensity. I tried to scream for help, but no sound came out. I could only watch with wide, helpless eyes as Sean walked away. The fluorescent lights overhead began to blur and spin into dizzying halos, until everything drowned in an overwhelming, suffocating red. Then, I plunged into complete darkness. The doctor said Tiffany was fine, just fainting from low blood sugar. Sean had just breathed a sigh of relief when a sudden commotion from down the hall sent a strange wave of panic through his chest. He got up to check. Tiffany tugged at his sleeve, whining his name softly. But this time, Sean didn't stop. He jogged back to the room. A crowd had already gathered three layers deep outside the door. Shocked, Sean shoved his way through the onlookers. Nurses were already lifting me onto a gurney. A doctor was performing CPR, shouting at the top of his lungs: "Out of the way! Move!" "Patient suffered trauma, massive hemorrhage from a miscarriage! Rush her to trauma! She's in critical condition!"

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