On the third day after I gave birth, my husband Marcus told me he had an urgent business trip. He left me alone in the hospital to care for our newborn.
Three days later, just as I was finally being discharged, his childhood friend Sierra posted a photo on Instagram. It was a cozy family portrait: Sierra, her daughter, and my husband smiling beneath the caption, “A happy family of three.”
That same night, she showed off the diamonds he bought her. In the comments, Marcus promised that twenty years from now, he would buy “their daughter” a set too.
Our six-day-old son was crying in my arms.
Marcus had already forgotten he existed.
So when he threatened me with divorce again, I didn’t beg him to stay.
This time, I said yes.
Chapter 1
On the second day after I gave birth to our baby, my husband, Marcus, announced he had to leave for an urgent business trip.
Shortly after, his childhood friend, Sierra, posted a photo on VibeGram. It was a cozy picture with the caption: "From our little getaway—a happy family of three."
I stared at the screen, stunned by the image of my husband smiling brightly beside her. I left a simple comment: "?"
Marcus called me almost immediately, furious. "She's a single mom with no one to help her out. All I did was take a simple photo with her. Do you really have to be so jealous?"
That evening, Sierra posted again, this time flaunting a dazzling set of diamond jewelry. "After our family photo, he insisted on buying me these stunning diamonds~"
I knew he had bought them to keep her happy. But this time, I had finally had enough.
As if sensing my mood, our newborn suddenly started wailing. It took me two exhausting hours to calm him down. During that entire time, Marcus didn't call or text once.
Sierra, however, kept updating her VibeGram. She posted three more close-ups of the diamonds, sending her followers into a frenzy. Her comments section exploded with people gushing in envy.
My eyes caught a reply from Marcus himself: "Today I buy them for you, and twenty years from now, I'll buy our daughter a set too."
"Best husband ever, love you~~"
Their sickeningly sweet exchange felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I turned to look at our son, sleeping peacefully in his bassinet. I guess Marcus had already forgotten he had a six-day-old son.
Then again, on the day I went into labor, he claimed he was too swamped with work to be at the hospital. I found out later that he was actually busy celebrating the third birthday of Sierra's daughter.
"Your gallstones are too large to ignore. We recommend surgery tomorrow," the doctor said, reviewing my chart.
I had developed them during my pregnancy. After a moment of quiet consideration, I sent Marcus a text: "Come back tomorrow. It's important."
A long time passed before his reply came through. His tone was sharp and annoyed. "I'm busy. Stop bothering me with every little thing. Keep this up and I'm filing for divorce!"
I stared calmly at my screen. I had lost count of how many times Marcus had threatened me with divorce. Ever since Sierra reappeared in his life, anytime I called out their closeness, he would use the threat of leaving to shut me down. "All wives have to put up with something in marriage. If you can't handle it, leave."
In the past, I was always the one who backed down. Not this time.
"I need surgery—that's why I asked you to come," I typed back. "If that's how you feel, then let's get divorced."
A few seconds later, my phone rang. Marcus's voice was suddenly much softer. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? What time's the surgery? I'll be there."
Frowning, I glanced at our sleeping son and replied, "2 PM."
"Okay."