They saved every penny, pouring it all into helping me and David’s household.
David had no father around, so whenever we needed help, it was my parents who watched Ethan.
Even David’s current law firm only existed because my parents sold their bigger suburban house, bought a smaller one, and gave him the cash to start his practice.
And yet he remembered none of it.
To him, my mother’s life wasn’t even worth fifty thousand dollars.
After twelve years of marriage, I finally realized with painful clarity—David didn’t love me.
Because love means cherishing the ones your partner loves too. Hatred works the same way.
When I stepped out of the restaurant, David’s car was still parked outside.
A girl in a red dress sat in the passenger seat, pouting, asking him to apply her lipstick.
He carefully traced her lips, and she leaned in with a giggle to kiss him.
Through the windshield, I watched them laugh together.
When David spotted me, his smile faded instantly, though he showed no guilt.
The girl glanced at me curiously as he started the engine and sped off.
A puddle left by the morning rain splashed filthy water all over me as his tires cut through it.
Soaked and humiliated, I dragged myself home.