If they said I was unreasonable, then so be it. It didn’t harm me in the slightest. But if I let this resentment fester inside, that was what truly nauseating.
I knew they wouldn’t leave on their own accord. After all, they had nowhere else to go. But that wasn’t my problem.
About an hour later, I gave them my final ultimatum. "I gave you the chance to leave willingly, and you didn’t take it."
As soon as I finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.
Visibly startled, Eliza clutched her so-called grandson tightly.
I went to open the door and found two property management staff standing there.
That was right—I had called the property management. If they wouldn’t leave on their own, then I would force them out.
While my mother-in-law bickered with the property staff, Patrick remained unusually quiet. I knew this was a blow to his pride.
I had loved him for seven years—how could I not understand his thoughts?
"Enough already. Andrea, you’ve really outdone yourself. I’m leaving today, and even if you beg me, I won’t come back," he said, acting all righteous.
He picked up Kevin and walked out. Seeing their son leave, my in-laws grew even angrier.
"Andrea, what’s wrong with you? Where do you expect us to go in the middle of the night?"
"San Francisco is a big city, and your son is so capable—he can surely find a place for you to stay. Besides, where you go is none of my business. If you don’t leave now, the next people coming won’t be the property management staff."
At that moment, I realized that once I decided on something, I would see it through no matter what.
Just like how I was now resolute about ending things with Patrick—just as I had once been so determined to love him.
My mother-in-law finally understood what I meant. She cursed me while hurriedly grabbing a few important items from her room. After they left, I didn’t rest either.
I cleaned the entire house, packing all their belongings into boxes.
Exhausted, I collapsed onto the sofa. Only then did I start feeling the pain in my lower abdomen.
Before leaving the hospital, the doctor had repeatedly told me to rest in bed.
Curled up on the sofa like a pitiful wreck, I didn’t dare call my mom. I was afraid she would scold me.
Back then, they had warned me that I was chasing after Patrick, that I loved him more than he loved me, and that I would suffer for it. But I believed that if I loved him enough, he would eventually love me back.
However, I was wrong.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. The pain became unbearable, and I ended up back in the hospital. As I lay on the cold hospital bed, tears streamed down my face.
At dawn, Patrick called.
"Andrea, apologize to Mom right now, and we’ll come back." His condescending tone made me nauseous. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?
They say the loved always act with impunity—and it couldn’t be any truer. He took my deep love for granted and acted without restraint.
Ignoring his words, I said, "Patrick, meet me at the Civil Affairs Bureau at 9 am today. If you don’t show up, prepare to be sued."
After saying that, I hang up. Even though I was in pain, I was determined to drag myself there and end this marriage.
Back then, I had been so eager to marry him. Now, I was just as desperate to escape.
I waited for him, but Patrick didn’t show up. I was stood up.
At the Civil Affairs Bureau, I inquired about the divorce process. If mutual agreement couldn’t be reached, I could file a lawsuit, but there would be a waiting period.
"If you can find evidence of wrongdoing or other proof of a broken relationship, the timeline for a lawsuit can be shortened," the staff member explained.
Her words struck a chord. After returning to the hospital, my attending physician scolded me.
"If you keep this up, do you even care about your life?"
I sighed and didn't respond. For now, all my plans would have to wait until I was discharged.
