Ex-wife, Remarry Me with Your Children

My marriage to Spencer Yates had always seemed like a perfect arrangement. Our families benefited, and on the surface, everything was smooth.

My parents, especially, were eager for grandchildren. They kept pushing, subtly at first, then more insistently.

Each time, I could only offer a polite response, brushing off their excitement with vague reassurances.

However, there was no child coming. Every time Spencer and I were together, we were careful.

He clearly didn’t want a child and his disinterest was beginning to weigh on me.

That night was no different. As usual, we shared a brief moment of intimacy and at the crucial moment, I made a point to remind him about his parents’ wish for a baby.

But Spencer, predictably, didn’t seem to care. He ignored my hint and proceeded as he always did.

After that night, I gave up. I stopped talking about children altogether.

When my parents realized they couldn’t convince me, they shifted their focus to Spencer. They even went as far as keeping us both locked in the house together.

We were practically imprisoned by our own families, forced to spend several days together in an attempt to encourage conception.

For me, having a child was optional. A part of me didn’t really mind if we didn’t. But my family? They were relentless.

Besides, seeing the neighbor’s adorable little daughter had planted a small seed of doubt in my mind.

But Spencer? He seemed to hate me for it.

One night, he grabbed my shoulder, his grip tight.

"Tiffany Quinn!" he hissed through clenched teeth, "Was this your idea? Speak!"

Pain shot through me as his fingers dug into my skin. I winced, twisting away from him, but before I could respond, he shoved me down onto the bed.

"Speak!" he demanded, his voice rising with each word. "Are you deaf? I’ve told you it's not the right time to have a child!"

I was stunned. Tears welled up in my eyes as I lay there, staring at the ceiling.

"Spencer," I whispered through trembling lips, "If I told you this wasn’t my idea, would you believe me?"

This wasn’t the Spencer I knew, or thought I knew. He was supposed to be gentle and kind, not this cruel man looming over me, his newlywed wife.

Slap!

He leaned over and gave me a loud slap and the whole bedroom echoed.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he struck me, leaving a burning sting across my cheek. Five crimson fingerprints instantly appeared on my face and I couldn't hold back my tears of humiliation.

"Hard-headed, huh?" he sneered, his handsome face twisted with disdain. "Do you really think that just because you married me, you get to control everything, including when to have children? You don’t deserve it!"

His words were venomous, slicing into me with each syllable. His charm had turned into something ugly, cruel and dangerous.

"I didn’t! Please, let me go!" My voice cracked with desperation, but he was in no mood to listen.

That night, Spencer was different. He was reckless, completely disregarding everything he had ever said about not wanting children. In the past, he had always been cautious, especially when I was hesitant.

I didn’t know what I had done to provoke him. He was consumed by madness and I was powerless to stop him.

By the end of it, I was left broken. His family, who had been keeping an eye on us, must have heard the commotion, because those who stood guard outside our door reported it.

Satisfied now, family?

Since then, Spencer rarely came home and when he did, he always had an excuse.

"Lucy’s sick again," he’d say nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to leave his wife to care for his so-called "sweetheart."

Lucy Rivera was his high school crush, a beautiful girl with fair skin, long legs and an enviable background. Spencer had chased her back then, but she had rejected him time and time again.

Ironically, Lucy and I had shared a dorm in college and I never suspected how much their dynamic would haunt me later.

Spencer and I had known each other since we were children. When it came time to marry, we agreed quickly, perhaps too quickly.

Now, everything felt different. Spencer had changed, or maybe he’d always been this way and I just hadn’t seen it.

Whenever he went out, he never invited me along. At first, I didn’t mind. I had always been socially anxious, preferring solitude to the pressure of meeting new people.

But as time went on, his absences became more frequent. He didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. He would disappear for days, always under the guise of taking care of Lucy.

I didn’t know how much longer I could take it.