IT ALL FELT LIKE a bad dream I couldn’t wake up from. I sat at the kitchen counter, staring at the barely touched cup of milk in front of me. My stomach churned, not just from the pregnancy that seemed determined to keep me nauseous every morning but also from the gnawing ache in my heart. Philip hadn't been home in days.

Days.

I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Another evening, and another long wait that would likely end with me falling asleep alone. I clutched my belly, tears pooling in my eyes.

“Don't worry, baby. Your dad will be home soon,” I told my unborn child and smiled sadly. Despite my heart aching after the call, I'm still yearning to see and touch Philip. I was deeply hurt with that call but I always long for his presence.

I remembered the woman's voice from the other line. I couldn't be wrong. It was Kelsey, Philip's childhood sweetheart, now a successful model and fashion designer.

Her name felt like poison on my tongue. I didn’t need her to say much to know who she was to him—her tone, her laughter, and the unmistakable smugness that dripped from every word.

Philip hadn’t said a word to defend himself whatever I was thinking. Not one damn word. Maybe… he doesn't really care.

Then the doorbell rang.

I froze, my heart leaping to my throat. Could it be Philip? Maybe he’d finally decided to come home and explain himself. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I hurried to the door, already rehearsing what I would say to him. But when I opened it, my heart sank.

It wasn’t Philip.

“Hello there,” said the woman on my doorstep, her smile as sharp as a knife. “Astrid, right?”

I knew that voice. I didn’t even have to guess. It was her—Kelsey. She was prettier than I expected, with perfectly styled blonde hair and a designer purse slung over her shoulder. She oozes confidence, the kind that came from knowing you’d won.

“Y-Yes. What do you want?” I asked, gripping the edge of the door. My voice, a bit shaking but I still tried my best to not look affected by her presence. I'm trying so hard to not give her the satisfaction of seeing me… weak.

“Oh, don’t be so rude. Aren’t you going to invite me in?” She didn’t wait for my answer. She stepped past me and into the house as if she owned the place.

“W-Wait!” I tried to stop her.

She laughed, a mocking sound that grated on my nerves. “Relax, Astrid. I just thought we should have a little… chat. You know, woman to woman. Don't be so rude and make me just stay outside.”

“There’s… nothing for us to talk about,” I said. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

“Oh, I think there is,” she said, walking into the living room. She glanced around, her lips curving into a smirk. “Cozy place you’ve got here. I can see why Philip got bored.”

Her words hit me like a slap, but I refused to let her see me crumble. “If you’re here to insult me, you can leave. Now.”

“Oh, don’t take it so personally,” she said, waving a manicured hand. “It’s not your fault you’re… well, you. You’re just a plain housewife, Astrid. Nothing exciting. Nothing special. Philip deserves more than this.”

I could feel my face burning, a mix of humiliation and fury. “What the hell are you saying?”

Kelsey leaned against the arm of the couch, crossing her arms as if she hadn’t heard me. “You know, he’s already planning to divorce you, right? It’s only a matter of time before he makes it official.”

I stared at her, my breath catching in my throat. “D-Don’t say something… absurd!”

She shrugged, her smirk widening. “Oh, come on. You must’ve seen it coming. He doesn’t love you anymore, Astrid. Wait, he didn't even love you from the very beginning! You’re just… in the way.”

I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. My knees trembled, but I held my ground. “If that’s true,” I said, my voice shaking, “then he should be the one telling me, not you.”

“Oh, he will,” Kelsey said with a laugh. “Trust me, he will. Anyway, that would be all. I don't have plans to stay here longer. I just told you to give you a heads up.” She smirked.

With that, she turned and walked out the door, leaving me standing there, trembling with anger and despair. I slammed the door shut behind her, the sound echoing through the empty house. Tears spilled down my cheeks, but I wiped them away fiercely. I wouldn’t let her win. I wouldn’t let her see how much she’d broken me.

Hours passed, and I sat on the couch, staring at nothing. I barely noticed when the front door creaked open. My head snapped up, and there he was—Philip. He looked tired, his hair disheveled, but there was no mistaking the coldness in his eyes.

“Astrid,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. He didn’t even ask how I was or why I looked like I’d been crying. He just walked in and set a stack of papers on the coffee table.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t meet my eyes. “It’s a divorce agreement.”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. I stared at the papers, unable to process what I was seeing.

“You’re… divorcing me?” I asked with blurry eyes. “Y-You're kidding me, right? This is not true, Philip.”

“It is. Don't make this too hard for the both of us,” he replied coldly and avoided my gaze. “Don't overreact.”

“How do you expect me to handle this… divorce? Why, Philip? Why are you doing this to me?” I cried in front of him, silently praying in my head that he would take back his words.

“Stop that, Astrid. Just… sign the papers whenever you’re ready,” he said quietly. “But it would be better if you could sign it as soon as possible.”

He then turned his back and left… without even giving me an option on what he told me about the divorce.

I CLUTCHED THE DIVORCE agreement in my trembling hands. My vision blurred as tears clouded my eyes, but the bold black letters at the top of the page were impossible to ignore. Divorce Agreement. The words echoed in my mind, a cruel reminder of how much my life had crumbled.

I haven't even slept a wink while thinking about this. Philip decided to sleep in one of the guest rooms as if he didn't really want to stay in one room with me. I tried knocking on his door to ask about the divorce last night but he didn't open it.

Until morning came, I'm still here, outside the guest room to see and ask him about this. I didn't care anymore if I looked like a damn puppy trying to get his attention. I just want him to not continue the divorce. I love him so much that it will kill me if that happens.

I straightened my back when Philip opened his door. He was shocked upon seeing me still outside of the room.

“P-Please, Philip,” I begged, my voice cracking. “We can make this work. I’ll do anything. Just don’t… don’t end this. I can't.”

His expression was blank, as though this wasn’t a conversation about tearing apart the life we’d built together over the years.

“Astrid,” he began, exhaling sharply. “I don't want to complicate everything. You’ve heard me enough last night already. I don't want to repeat what I said this time. It’s not working for the both of us.”

“But… I l-love you, Philip,” I answered as if that would be enough to take back his decision.

He didn’t answer immediately but he clenched his jaw.

“I just want to be happy, Astrid. This marriage is suffocating me already,” he said.

I stared at him, my heart pounding. “And divorcing me will make you… happy?” I asked with my heart breaking silently inside.

“Yes,” he said simply, without hesitation.

That single word crushed me. I felt the air leave my lungs, my chest tightening as though the weight of his indifference was suffocating me. I nodded slowly, tears streaming down my face.

Then I realized something. I love him so much that his happiness is what matters to me the most.

“Fine,” I whispered. “If that’s what you want. I'll… sign the divorce paper,” I added half-heartedly.

He just nodded. “You should pack your things,” he said. “I think it’s better if you leave now.”

I looked at him, searching for even a flicker of guilt or regret, but there was nothing. Just the same detached expression he’d worn since we started this conversation. I wanted to scream, to beg him to change his mind one last time, but I knew it was pointless.

“R-Right,” I said, my voice hollow. “I’ll leave now.” I quickly turned my back on him for him to not see my tears and go back to our room.

The rain started falling as I stuffed my belongings into a suitcase. The weather this morning isn't that good. The sound of raindrops hitting the roof mirrored the chaotic thoughts in my mind. Each item I packed felt like a piece of myself being stripped away.

I paused for a moment, clutching a framed picture of the two of us from our wedding day. My thumb traced the edge of the glass as tears fell freely down my face. How did it come to this?

With my trembling hands, I then got the divorce paper again and with my heart piercing painfully, I signed it while crying silently.

When I stepped outside, the rain soaked through my clothes almost instantly, but I didn’t care. The cold droplets on my skin were nothing compared to the emptiness I felt inside. I glanced back at the house one last time, hoping, praying that Philip would stop me, that he’d realize he was making a mistake.

But the door remains closed. So, even if it's painful, I left the house.

My parents’ house was only a few miles away, but it felt like crossing an ocean. By the time I arrived, I was drenched, shivering, and utterly broken. My mother opened the door, her expression shifting from surprise to concern as she took in my disheveled appearance.

“Astrid?” she said, pulling me inside. “What happened?”

I couldn’t speak. The words caught in my throat, strangled by the weight of my emotions. Instead, I collapsed into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered, stroking my hair. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. We’re here.”

My father appeared in the hallway, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“She’s home,” my mother said simply, her voice soft but firm.

I spent the night in my childhood bedroom, the walls still adorned with posters and photos from my teenage years. It was strange being back, surrounded by the remnants of a life that felt so far away. I curled up on the bed, clutching a pillow as though it could hold me together.

The rain continued to fall outside, the sound soothing and relentless. I stared at the ceiling, replaying the events of the evening in my mind. Every word Philip had said, every look he’d given me, it all felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

But as the hours dragged on, a new thought began to take root. Maybe this wasn’t the end. Maybe it was a chance for me to start over, to rebuild my life on my own terms.

The pain was still raw, the wound fresh, but I realized that I couldn’t let it consume me. I had to find a way to move forward, to find happiness again, if not for anyone else, then for myself.

The morning came, bringing with it a fragile sense of clarity. The rain had stopped, and the sun peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow over the world. I stood by the window, watching as the droplets on the glass sparkled like tiny diamonds.

It was a new day, and for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to hope.

“I’ll be okay,” I whispered to myself. “I have to be… for my baby.”