After my wife suffered a miscarriage, she lost her memory and became dazed and childlike.
All day long, she clutched the teddy bear I had bought in advance for our daughter, insisting it was her precious little girl.
And from time to time, she even brought my ex-girlfriend home.
The two of them not only lay openly in the same bed, but even slept in each other’s arms.
I couldn’t take it anymore and called both families together.
In front of everyone, I coldly declared:
“Send your daughter to a psychiatric hospital, or… I’ll divorce her!”
Just as everyone was stunned by my demand for divorce, my wife clutched the teddy bear tightly, her face twisted with fear. She shrieked at me:
“You bastard, you killed my daughter!”
“I’ll kill you to avenge her!”
Agitated, she grabbed the ashtray from the table and hurled it at me.
With a loud crack, my head split open and blood ran down my face.
Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and dialed the psychiatric hospital:
“Hello, I’ve got a lunatic here. Please come and take her away!”
…
No one could have imagined it.
I, David Miller—the so-called good husband who once cherished his wife above all else—was now demanding divorce from a woman devastated by miscarriage, and even calling the psychiatric hospital to have her locked up.
Mr. Green snatched the phone from my hand.
Mrs. Green stomped on it furiously until the screen shattered into pieces.
Only then did she stop, tears burning in her eyes.
“David, are you even human? Rachel Green carried your child for ten months—do you have any idea what she endured? The miscarriage wasn’t all her fault. As her husband, at least eighty percent of the responsibility is yours!”
“If you hadn’t dragged Rachel to the Rocky Mountains, would she have slipped and miscarried?”
“She’s traumatized, she lost her memory, she mistook Mark Johnson for you. Yes, it was wrong of her—but think about it, she’s sick, she didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Couldn’t you show her a little compassion? A little understanding?”
“You heartless bastard, I should never have let my daughter marry you!”
After Rachel’s parents finished scolding me, my father also shouted at me, saying I shouldn’t fight over Rachel with Mark.
Everyone present knew Rachel had mistaken Mark for her husband.
Mark himself promised to cooperate fully and help her recover as much as possible.
“David, you should be more generous. Didn’t the doctors say? Rachel’s amnesia is her body’s way of defending itself, shutting away memories of you because she can’t face losing her child.”
“It isn’t her fault. Until her condition improves, you ought to support her—not abandon her!”
But even after all the accusations, I remained firm.
“Either she goes to the psychiatric hospital, or I file for divorce!”
“You wretch! You’re dead set on abandoning my daughter, aren’t you?”
“My poor girl, how could she end up with a heartless man like you!”
Mrs. Green burst into tears.
My father slapped me hard across the face.
“Take back what you just said—now!”
“I won’t change my mind.”
I remained cold and unmoved.
Mr. Green finally lost control.
He lunged at me, grabbed me by the collar, and pounded my face with his fists.
The pain made my whole body tremble, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth.
But I didn’t resist.
I didn’t fight back.
And Mrs. Green wasn’t done yet.
