IT ALL FELT LIKE a bad dream I couldn’t wake up from. I sat at the kitchen counter, staring at the barely touched cup of milk in front of me. My stomach churned, not just from the pregnancy that seemed determined to keep me nauseous every morning but also from the gnawing ache in my heart. Philip hadn't been home in days.
Days.
I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Another evening, and another long wait that would likely end with me falling asleep alone. I clutched my belly, tears pooling in my eyes.
“Don't worry, baby. Your dad will be home soon,” I told my unborn child and smiled sadly. Despite my heart aching after the call, I'm still yearning to see and touch Philip. I was deeply hurt with that call but I always long for his presence.
I remembered the woman's voice from the other line. I couldn't be wrong. It was Kelsey, Philip's childhood sweetheart, now a successful model and fashion designer.
Her name felt like poison on my tongue. I didn’t need her to say much to know who she was to him—her tone, her laughter, and the unmistakable smugness that dripped from every word.
Philip hadn’t said a word to defend himself whatever I was thinking. Not one damn word. Maybe… he doesn't really care.
Then the doorbell rang.
I froze, my heart leaping to my throat. Could it be Philip? Maybe he’d finally decided to come home and explain himself. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I hurried to the door, already rehearsing what I would say to him. But when I opened it, my heart sank.
It wasn’t Philip.
“Hello there,” said the woman on my doorstep, her smile as sharp as a knife. “Astrid, right?”
I knew that voice. I didn’t even have to guess. It was her—Kelsey. She was prettier than I expected, with perfectly styled blonde hair and a designer purse slung over her shoulder. She oozes confidence, the kind that came from knowing you’d won.
“Y-Yes. What do you want?” I asked, gripping the edge of the door. My voice, a bit shaking but I still tried my best to not look affected by her presence. I'm trying so hard to not give her the satisfaction of seeing me… weak.
“Oh, don’t be so rude. Aren’t you going to invite me in?” She didn’t wait for my answer. She stepped past me and into the house as if she owned the place.
“W-Wait!” I tried to stop her.
She laughed, a mocking sound that grated on my nerves. “Relax, Astrid. I just thought we should have a little… chat. You know, woman to woman. Don't be so rude and make me just stay outside.”
“There’s… nothing for us to talk about,” I said. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.
“Oh, I think there is,” she said, walking into the living room. She glanced around, her lips curving into a smirk. “Cozy place you’ve got here. I can see why Philip got bored.”
Her words hit me like a slap, but I refused to let her see me crumble. “If you’re here to insult me, you can leave. Now.”
“Oh, don’t take it so personally,” she said, waving a manicured hand. “It’s not your fault you’re… well, you. You’re just a plain housewife, Astrid. Nothing exciting. Nothing special. Philip deserves more than this.”
I could feel my face burning, a mix of humiliation and fury. “What the hell are you saying?”
Kelsey leaned against the arm of the couch, crossing her arms as if she hadn’t heard me. “You know, he’s already planning to divorce you, right? It’s only a matter of time before he makes it official.”
I stared at her, my breath catching in my throat. “D-Don’t say something… absurd!”
She shrugged, her smirk widening. “Oh, come on. You must’ve seen it coming. He doesn’t love you anymore, Astrid. Wait, he didn't even love you from the very beginning! You’re just… in the way.”
I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. My knees trembled, but I held my ground. “If that’s true,” I said, my voice shaking, “then he should be the one telling me, not you.”
“Oh, he will,” Kelsey said with a laugh. “Trust me, he will. Anyway, that would be all. I don't have plans to stay here longer. I just told you to give you a heads up.” She smirked.
With that, she turned and walked out the door, leaving me standing there, trembling with anger and despair. I slammed the door shut behind her, the sound echoing through the empty house. Tears spilled down my cheeks, but I wiped them away fiercely. I wouldn’t let her win. I wouldn’t let her see how much she’d broken me.
Hours passed, and I sat on the couch, staring at nothing. I barely noticed when the front door creaked open. My head snapped up, and there he was—Philip. He looked tired, his hair disheveled, but there was no mistaking the coldness in his eyes.
“Astrid,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. He didn’t even ask how I was or why I looked like I’d been crying. He just walked in and set a stack of papers on the coffee table.
“What’s this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t meet my eyes. “It’s a divorce agreement.”
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. I stared at the papers, unable to process what I was seeing.
“You’re… divorcing me?” I asked with blurry eyes. “Y-You're kidding me, right? This is not true, Philip.”
“It is. Don't make this too hard for the both of us,” he replied coldly and avoided my gaze. “Don't overreact.”
“How do you expect me to handle this… divorce? Why, Philip? Why are you doing this to me?” I cried in front of him, silently praying in my head that he would take back his words.
“Stop that, Astrid. Just… sign the papers whenever you’re ready,” he said quietly. “But it would be better if you could sign it as soon as possible.”
He then turned his back and left… without even giving me an option on what he told me about the divorce.
