In the third year of my marriage to George Ratcliffe, something terrible happened. His twin brother, Anthony, died in a car accident. Anthony left behind only his wife, Arianna Green, who was three months pregnant at the time.
Since there was no one else to take care of Arianna, Mrs. Ratcliffe asked George to take responsibility for both households. The first, third and fifth days of the week belonged to me. Meanwhile, the second, fourth and sixth belonged to Arianne.
I believed everything would return to normal after the baby was born, but I did not expect George to stay with me every night. Our relationship grew quickly and became closer again.
Less than four months after giving birth, Arianne became pregnant with her and George’s child. I sat alone in my room, holding the handwritten letters he once gave me. One by one, I threw them into the fire.
The flames ate away the papers, while the words written in it slowly disappeared into ashes.
It was time for me to leave this circus of a family.
——
I watched George joyfully hug Arianne and spin her around. My face was calm, but my heart had already grown cold and empty. After all, I did not expect that just four months after giving birth to our first child, George would have another child. Not to mention, it was with his own sister-in-law.
"Arianne, you’ve worked hard to grow our family. My mother said she will find the best hospital for you. You can use the black credit card as much as you like," George said with excitement.
After saying this, he seemed to suddenly remember that I was standing nearby.
He hesitated and added, "Selena, you know my mother speaks directly. It’s not like that. She just wants a grandson very badly."
But Arianne was already pregnant with his brother’s child and had given birth. That excuse was weak and unconvincing.
"It doesn’t matter," I answered without emotion.
Last October, my brother-in-law was hit by a car and died, leaving behind Arianne, who was three months pregnant. She had been so devastated that she had almost fainted when she heard the news. She then proceeded to cry and say she wanted to take the baby and join him in the afterlife.
Mrs. Ratcliffe panicked and came up with the idea of George taking care of both Arianne and me. The birth of twins was enough to silence the rumors. As long as the Ratcliffe Family kept quiet, no one would know that George was spending time in the bedrooms of two women at once.
To make me feel better, he came to my room on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. He went to Arianne on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. After the baby was born, he began visiting her even more often.
And now, I was pregnant with our child.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.
"Arianne is pregnant, so her hormones cause her to be histerical. You should go and stay with her," I said.
George looked confused.
He grabbed my wrist and tried to explain, saying, "Selena, you know I’m only taking care of her for my brother."
"You’re really not angry with me?" he asked.
I gave a small smile without emotion and gently removed his fingers from my wrist. Frankly, I was tired of sharing my husband with someone else. But would he even listen to me?
Just then, Arianne frowned and held her lower stomach, saying she felt pain. As I expected, George didn’t even bother to take a glance at me again. He quickly picked her up and carried her back to the room.
The two of them stayed close, showing no concern for how it looked. I felt like my steps were floating and I held tightly onto the ultrasound report I had hidden under the bed. Earlier, I used to think this new baby was a miracle, becoming a way to win back George’s love.
But now, it seemed pointless.
I called the hospital and made an appointment for an abortion. Not long after that, I called my parents, who lived 3,000 kilometers away. In a quiet voice, I told them I missed home.
Tears burst from my eyes. I wiped my nose and tried to calm down.
"Mum, is the man you wanted me to meet still single?"
After ending the call, I took out the wooden box. This box was where I had saved the letters George had written me. Inside was also the certificate given by the Royal Astronomical Society of England from the night we watched the moon together.
We had been in love for four years and married for three. He used to write me letters on every birthday and anniversary. There were dozens of them. I had kept them all safe in the box.
But since he started taking care of Arianne, he stopped writing. I knew that I had to do something. So, I lit a candle and burned the letters until they were all gone.
