I dropped the call immediately, my hands shaking so hard I nearly flung the phone across the room. The sound still rang in my ears. I didn’t need to see her face to know who it was. Felicia.
While I was clutching my dead mother’s hand, Felicia was clutching my husband. While I drowned in condolences, they drowned in pleasure.
I carried my mother’s ashes myself. No one helped me. No one stood beside me. Not Victor, not a single person from his family. Alone, I lowered the urn into the ground, tears blinding me until I could no longer see the soil I shoveled with my own hands.
It felt like burying the last fragment of myself.
The stress of it all—the grief, the betrayal, the emptiness—broke me. My body collapsed under the weight, and I fainted right there at the graveside.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the hospital. Again. Two days passed in that bed, and not once did Victor call. Not even a message. Not even a single word to ask if I was alive.
And yet, as I lay staring at the pale ceiling, my mind betrayed me, dragging me back into the past.
The first time I met Victor was when I fainted in class during high school. My anemia had acted up again, and before anyone else could react, Victor was there. He carried me to the clinic himself.
I remembered the way he held my hand as I lay on the cot, whispering, “You scared me, Katie. Don’t ever do that again. I’ll always take care of you, okay? Forever.”
It was the beginning of everything—our love, our promises, our dreams. He courted me with the kind of patience that turned heads, the golden boy of the school choosing me, the quiet girl who only had books and Felicia as her world.
And Felicia. God, how blind I had been. I let them be close. I told myself they were just friends. I defended them when people whispered behind my back. I thought I was lucky—my best friend and my lover getting along so well. I never realized it was betrayal. That they had been stabbing me in the back for years, wearing masks of loyalty while they devoured me piece by piece.
I blinked away my tears, anger bubbling beneath the surface, sharper than the grief that had nearly killed me. No more. I wouldn’t let them hurt me anymore.
I picked up the phone with trembling hands and called my lawyer.
“I want a divorce,” I said flatly.
There was a long pause. Then his voice, cautious. “A divorce? Katie, you know the prenup you signed. If you file, Victor can cut you off completely. No financial support. Nothing for your mother’s treatment. Nothing for—”
“My mother is dead,” I cut in, my voice cracking but firm. “And soon, I’ll be gone too. Just file it. I’ll make him sign.”
I ended the call before he could argue further. My chest rose and fell heavily as I shoved the phone aside.
That was when the notification chimed.
Victor’s email. He had forgotten to log out on my phone the other day. With a frown, I tapped it open, and my heart froze.
An ultrasound photo. A baby. Not mine. Not ours.
Attached was a ticket to the Persian Sea—the dream destination I had begged him for, for years. He always said it was too much trouble, a waste of time, that he was too busy. And yet here it was, tickets for two, hotel reservations, everything perfectly planned—For Felicia.
The screen blurred as my tears spilled faster than I could wipe them away. My chest caved in with a sob. How long had they been laughing at me behind my back?
I didn’t hear the door open until Victor’s voice filled the room. “Katie!”
I snapped my head toward him. He was panting, eyes wide, feigning panic. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know you were here, I just—”
I laughed bitterly, my voice raw. “You didn’t know I was here or you didn’t care to check what happened to me because you never loved me anymore?”
He froze, his face hardening before softening again with fake concern. “I’m sorry. Truly. And no, of course not. I love you. Please, don’t say that, I was just busy with business. This is for us. You’re weak, you shouldn’t stress yourself. Let’s… let’s just focus on your transplant, okay? That’s what matters now. Your health.”
I glared at him, bile rising in my throat. “Really? Or are you feeling guilty because you’re cheating on me?”
His eyes flickered, but he forced a smile. “Don’t talk nonsense. Why would I do that? Come on. Let me discharge you. We’ll go home. Together.”
Too tired to fight, I let him help me into the car. I stared out the window, the rain beginning to fall in soft sheets, my reflection a stranger’s face.
Then his phone rang.
He picked up immediately, and though he tried to keep his voice steady, I could hear everything.
“Victor,” a woman whimpered, breathless. “My tummy hurts. Please help me. I think something’s wrong with the baby.”
Felicia. I stiffened, every muscle in my body locking in place.
Victor slammed the brakes, pulling the car to the side of the road.
“Get out,” he said curtly.
My head snapped toward him. “What?”
“I need to go. Business. I can’t take you home right now. Take a taxi.”
“Victor, are you insane? It’s raining, I just got discharged—”
“GET OUT!” His voice cracked like a whip, his hand shoving at my arm.
I stumbled out, the door slamming shut behind me. My knees hit the gravel as the rain poured harder, drenching me instantly.
The taillights of his car blurred through my tears as he drove away, leaving me sprawled in the mud like discarded trash.
My arms wrapped around myself, shivering, my body weak.
Victor had once sworn to carry me forever. Now he couldn’t even spare me a ride home.
And there, in the downpour, I realized—I wasn’t his wife anymore. I was nothing.
