One time, in kindergarten, a bigger classmate bullied her, mocking her for being a fatherless child.
She had come home in tears, her small hands wiping at her swollen eyes as she sobbed.
"Mommy, where is my daddy?"
"Why doesn't Daddy come home? Aurelia misses him so much."
For my daughter's sake, I had swallowed my pride again and again, forcing myself to seek out Nathaniel.
But by then, he had already made Ophelia’s place his home, shutting the door on us without a second thought.
I gathered my daughter into my arms, her tiny frame trembling against me.
The pain clenched at my heart like a vice, tightening until even breathing felt unbearable.
"Nathaniel, you're nothing but a beast."
"From now on, my daughter and I will never disturb your life again."
I flung the divorce papers at him, fully prepared for him to tear them apart like before.
But I had already anticipated that I had another copy waiting.
"I'm not the one making a scene. If you refuse to sign, then you're the one dragging this out."
Nathaniel’s eyes darkened with fury. "Don't play these games with me; I’m not an idiot."
"If you really wanted to leave, you would have done so long ago."
He turned to go, but just as he reached the door, he paused, throwing a glance over his shoulder, his eyes filled with cold amusement as if he were looking at a pair of beggars.
"Oh, right. If I remember correctly, your mother has a weak heart, doesn’t she?"
"What do you think would happen if she saw Ophelia and me being affectionate? Would she be so shocked she drops dead on the spot?"
I snapped my head up, locking eyes with Nathaniel. He stood there, grinning from ear to ear, his delight unmistakable.
At that moment, I saw him for what he truly was: shameless and cruel to the core.
I had once believed that marrying him would bring me happiness, only to find myself sinking into an abyss of despair.
My daughter clung to me, her small body trembling as she sobbed.
"Mommy, I’m sorry… Is it Grandma and me who have been holding you back?"
"No, Aurelia, don’t ever blame yourself. This has nothing to do with you."
That night, after putting her to bed, my phone rang. It was my mother.
"Clara! Did you and Nathaniel make up?"
"Listen to me; you must never argue with your husband. A wife should be more understanding. He works so hard outside; it’s not easy for him! Do you hear me?"
I opened my mouth to tell her about the divorce, but before I could, she broke into a violent fit of coughing.
I swallowed my words.
"My health is getting worse and worse. Looks like I’ll be joining your father soon."
We spoke for a while before I set my phone down. I walked out onto the balcony, letting the cold night air bite at my skin. Sleep never came.
By morning, Ophelia arrived.
When I opened the door, the first thing I saw was the dress she had on—one I had custom-made for myself.
"Good morning, Sister Clara!"
Following my gaze, she glanced down at the dress, then smiled even more smugly.
"You have such great taste, Sister Clara. This dress is beautiful. I casually mentioned liking it and Nathaniel handed it right over."
Faced with her mockery, I saw no reason to be polite.
"When it was finished, I realized it looked awful and planned to throw it out. I never expected him to pick it up. Thanks for saving me the trouble."
Her smile stiffened, then darkened into something sharp and venomous.
"But there’s one thing you can’t bear to throw away—Nathaniel."
She let out a slow, taunting laugh.
"Seven years, Clara. Every night since I came back, he’s been in my bed. He’s practically my husband now."
"But the funny thing is…" She leaned in slightly, her voice dipping into something sickly sweet. "Even when he holds me at night, I’m thinking of another man."
"Even if he's trash, I won’t let you have him, not even as scraps. I’d rather see your child mocked as a bastard."
At that moment, I finally understood Ophelia wasn’t in love with Nathaniel. She was only toying with him.
