Anger coursed through me, making my entire body tremble. I stared at the screen, my tear-streaked, pale reflection staring back into the darkened glass.
With a shaky hand, I wiped my face and replied, my voice caught in my throat as if choking on every word: “I’d rather be unwanted than stay with someone as heartless as you. Ian, you’re no better than a beast!”
He didn’t respond, choosing silence as he always did.
I was used to his cold indifference, yet disappointment lingered.
Before we were married, whenever I was upset, he’d immediately admit fault and shower me with affection to make up for it.
But those days were gone.
When I was discharged from the hospital, the nurse gave me a knowing smile.
“Your husband must be something. No matter how busy he is, he should have come to pick you up.”
I forced a faint smile. “He’s preoccupied with his first love. He couldn’t make it.”
The nurse’s smile faltered, and she said nothing more.
Outside, the streets buzzed with traffic. Cars blurred past as I stood there, numb and aimless.
Go home? It was too far.
The doctor had strictly warned me to stay in bed and avoid prolonged sitting.
Given my condition, taking a long bus ride wasn’t an option.