Ignoring his words, I said, "Patrick, meet me at the Civil Affairs Bureau at 9 am today. If you don’t show up, prepare to be sued."
After saying that, I hang up. Even though I was in pain, I was determined to drag myself there and end this marriage.
Back then, I had been so eager to marry him. Now, I was just as desperate to escape.
I waited for him, but Patrick didn’t show up. I was stood up.
At the Civil Affairs Bureau, I inquired about the divorce process. If mutual agreement couldn’t be reached, I could file a lawsuit, but there would be a waiting period.
"If you can find evidence of wrongdoing or other proof of a broken relationship, the timeline for a lawsuit can be shortened," the staff member explained.
Her words struck a chord. After returning to the hospital, my attending physician scolded me.
"If you keep this up, do you even care about your life?"
I sighed and didn't respond. For now, all my plans would have to wait until I was discharged.
I was discharged a week later. During that time, Patrick hadn’t called me even once.
I had finally seen how cold and heartless he could be. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel too upset—perhaps because I knew our divorce was imminent.