After Divorcing My Phoenix Male Husband, He Fell from His High Branch

I was pregnant and burning the midnight oil at the office, and it was a total downpour outside. My penny-pinching husband, Jason, wouldn't drive out because of the gas cost.

Over the phone, he sounded annoyed.

"Really? Not hitting up your rich buddy this time?"

"What about the night bus? Why should I waste gas going back and forth?"

Yet he didn't hesitate to go pick up his boss, Emma Reed, from her night out at the bar, and even brought her homemade hangover soup.

I used to bite my tongue about Jason's tough past and his all-out grind at work. No matter how hard it got, I kept my grip to myself.

But this time, I dropped a bombshell, "Let's get a divorce. You can pick up whoever you want from now on."

"And for your information, the car was a gift from my parents before we married, so you can forget about it." I cut the call without another word.

When the office doors locked, I leaned against the wall in the biting wind, my belly in knots, feeling every bit as stormy inside as it was outside.

Again and again, Jason's lack of care had shown his true colors.

Now, I was throwing his love away like yesterday's trash.

——

As I was about to hobble to the security booth to dodge the rain, headlights caught me from behind.

"Olivia, what are you doing out here getting soaked?"

My childhood friend, Lucas Cole, jumped out and rushed to my side, ushering me into the warmth of his car.

He initially wanted to lift me up but decided against it, opting instead to shield me with his umbrella while he guided me gently.

"You mentioned working late on your feed half an hour ago, and it's been raining cats and dogs for over an hour. I got worried and had to check on you."

"What's going on with Jason, leaving you out here in the rain, and you pregnant? Everything okay?"

"I..."

Between skipping dinner and the cold seeping into my bones, I barely caught Lucas' words before I blacked out.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a hospital bed.

There was Jason, holding my hand, an expression of concern I hadn't seen in ages plastered across his face.

"Sorry, Olivia. If only you'd said you were feeling off, I never would've let you take the bus..."

"Talking about a divorce in the heat of the moment? You know you didn't mean it. Looks like the baby was just putting up a fight, but thankfully, the doctor says all is well."

I yanked my hand back, "Oh, Emma hasn't sobered up yet, huh? Why aren't you fussing over her?"

Jason's forehead creased. "She drank too much to drive; what if something happened?"

Just work buddies, yet Jason was at her beck and call.

I felt colder than ever. "What about me? Three months pregnant and this is your first hospital visit."

Jason looked embarrassed. "Well, these check-ups are during office hours. If I come, I have to cancel meetings. My boss wouldn't be too happy..."

"You always have Lucas take you. Everyone's starting to talk, saying I'm wearing green!"

Jason, cornered, tried to shift the blame.

"If Lucas hadn't shown up, you'd be in an ambulance by now."

"Jason, when have you actually cared about me?"

Jason suddenly became defensive, raising his voice.

"Olivia Wright, you've always thought less of me because I wasn't born with a silver spoon. And you never let me forget it by bringing up Lucas."

"How can you say I don't care? I've been busting my butt for you and our baby!"

Passersby in the hospital corridor stopped and stared, whispering to each other.

Every time we argued, Jason played the victim, leaving me to face the unwarranted scrutiny.

"Jason, don't try to play the saint here. You haven't spent a cent on me since we tied the knot."

My laugh was cold and humorless.

"The car's mine, and I've been paying off the house. Did you even prep your lies?"

"I thought you were just tight because you grew up poor. Now I see it's just your nature—you're stingy and selfish to the core."

Jason was caught off-guard. I didn't coddle him as usual, and he stumbled over his words.

Usually, I'd spare his feelings and not say it outright, letting him forget his limits.

"Olivia, is that really what you think of me? No wonder you prefer that rich guy."

Jason pretended to be crushed, his head hanging low as he murmured to himself.

He quietly served some chicken soup from a thermos.

"No matter what, I'm still your husband. Look, I barely slept last night, just to make this soup for you. Please, just try some."

Jason tenderly brushed my hair aside and offered me a spoonful with a loving look.

Instinctively, I opened my mouth, but the pungent smell instantly made me nauseous.

"Jason, I can't stand cilantro."

He was taken aback. "But you always get it ready."

"That's because you said you liked it. I've never actually eaten it."

Calmly, I continued, "And that soup? You picked it up from the café downstairs. Next time you lie, remember to pluck out the mushrooms with the café's logo."

I pushed the soup bowl back, and it accidentally splashed onto his shirt.

At that moment, a woman's voice piped up.

"Geez, I heard from you but didn't believe it—your wife really is high-maintenance, isn't she?"