“Girl, aren’t you going to call your husband?” he asked as I sipped some water.
I froze for a second.
“No need,” I replied quietly. “I’m planning to divorce him.”
Michael’s eyes went wide, and he looked a little uncomfortable.
I instantly regretted saying it out loud. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have dumped that on you.”
Michael just smiled warmly, brushing it off. It made me feel a bit better, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan. He hadn’t given me a single kind look in forever. Every conversation with him felt like I was pestering him, like even my words were a burden.
Just then, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Ethan—he had sent a picture of a hideous scarf.
“I bought you a birthday gift. Satisfied?”
I stared at the scarf, focusing on the brand logo before checking Sophia’s Instagram. There she was, posting a new Hermès bag.
“Pregnancy sickness? A new bag works wonders! Thanks for the gift, Ethan~”
I let out a bitter laugh. The scarf had obviously come with the bag. Probably too ugly for Sophia, so he gave it to me instead.
“I don’t need it. Keep it for Sophia to wipe her bag with.”
Ethan didn’t take that well. The phone rang almost immediately.
“Can you stop being so petty and jealous? Sophia and I are soulmates, not whatever nonsense you’re imagining!” he shouted.
“If I was with Sophia, do you think I’d still be stuck in this marriage?”
His words hit harder than I expected.
I’d been with Ethan since my sophomore year, right when Sophia went to Europe. Back then, Ethan’s family wasn’t doing great, and I wasn’t exactly living the high life either. After graduation, he started his business, and while it looked shiny on the outside, he was stressing about money constantly. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that things started turning around.
By then, I had gotten so used to being frugal. I felt bad about his struggles, so I didn’t spend a penny on anything unnecessary. Meanwhile, my mother-in-law kept hammering me about having kids.
What had I really gotten out of this?
“Drink this. You will feel better,” Michael said, entering with takeout.
The sound of him setting it down made Ethan go quiet for a moment.
“Who’s with you?” he growled. “Olivia, you think bringing some guy around is gonna make me jealous?”
“Tell him to get lost. He’s not welcome here,” he snapped.
I couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m in the hospital, my stomach hurts,” I said quickly, trying to get off the phone.
Ethan paused for a second, then suddenly let out a laugh.
“Oh, I get it. You’re just being childish, huh? Seeing Sophia pregnant is making you feel sick too? Using the same old trick to get my attention?”
“Don’t tell me you’re trying to say you’re pregnant too? That’s desperate and ridiculous.”
I gripped the phone, my knuckles white. I was furious, but I forced myself to stay calm. My baby couldn’t handle any more stress from him.
“Ethan, I’m not trying to get you back. Go have fun with Sophia. Someone else is taking care of me, and honestly, life’s easier without you.”
For the first time, I hung up on him before he could say anything.
He didn’t let it go. My phone lit up with a long string of messages, calling me dramatic, saying I was ruining his happiness, and warning me not to come crawling back when I realized what I’d lost.
I tossed the phone aside and dug into the porridge Michael brought me.
Two days later, the doctor said I was stable enough to go home.
Michael offered to drive me, but I shook my head. “It’s really no trouble. I’ll just take a cab.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Olivia, it’s no hassle. Neighbors help each other out.”
A sharp pang hit me. Ethan never drove me anywhere. But Sophia? He’d jump through hoops just to pick her up.
I’d only complained once, and his response had been, “Sophia doesn’t have a license! It’s my responsibility to pick her up. What if she gets into a cab with some creep? Are you going to be responsible for that?”
I opened the car door, ready to slide into the passenger seat, when I suddenly felt a firm grip yank my arm.
I turned, startled. Ethan stood behind me, his face twisted with anger.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, heart pounding.
I hadn’t heard from him in two days. Was he actually concerned about me?
He eyed Michael coldly, his tone icy. “You’ve got some nerve, huh? I come home and find the table covered in rotten, disgusting food!”
“Olivia, what’s your excuse? Other housewives at least take care of kids and the house. You can’t even have a child, and now you can’t even keep the place clean?”
His words shattered whatever little hope I had left.
I pulled my arm away, my voice flat. “Didn’t I tell you I was in the hospital? You don’t care that your wife is sick. You’re just blaming me for not doing housework?”
Ethan looked me up and down, his gaze full of disbelief. “You look fine to me. Stop pretending.”
Thanks to Michael bringing me nourishing soups every day, I looked a little better.
Michael stepped forward, about to speak up for me, but I stopped him with a subtle shake of my head, signaling him to leave first.
Then, to my complete shock, Ethan didn’t take me home. Instead, he parked the car right outside a bar.
