Divorce After Deception

The book my husband left on the nightstand was never meant for me. But one day, while cleaning, I accidentally knocked it over. Out slipped half of a photograph of my mother. I instantly recognized it as a piece cut out from our family portrait. On the back was a deep pink lipstick print, a shade my mother often wore. My heart skipped a beat.

During a Thanksgiving picnic in the hills, a wildfire suddenly surrounded my mother and me. Nicolas, my husband, charged into the flames to rescue my mom first, without sparing a glance at me. When I regained consciousness, I asked for a divorce.

Nicolas was stunned. "You want to divorce me just because I rescued your mother first?" he stammered.

I nodded firmly.

My mother rushed into the hospital room, kneeling beside my bed, her tears streaming down as she clasped my hand, pleading desperately. "Eliana, don't be mad at Nicolas because of me. It's all my fault. I'll do anything if it means you won't divorce him."

I was unmoved. "Then go ahead."

Family members present began to accuse me, calling me ungrateful and a burden, even the nurses passing by turned their backs on me with disdain.

Nicolas tried to calm the relatives, his voice breaking as he shouted at me: "Eliana, are you even human? That's your mother!"

"Was it wrong to save her?"

I responded with a cold smile. "Yes, it was wrong!"

...

When I received the divorce papers, Nicolas stormed into my hospital room.

"Eliana, even a tantrum has its limits! Your mother almost died in that fire, and now she's hospitalized because she fainted after you proposed a divorce. Do you feel any guilt?"

I looked at him calmly, staying silent.

Seeing me quiet, Nicolas' expression softened slightly. "I get that you’re upset I didn’t rescue you first, but she's your mom. She's heartbroken because of you, refusing to eat until you forgive her."

"You need to come with me and apologize."

I idly scrolled through my phone, posting on Instagram, celebrating my soon-to-be single life. Only then did I look up and smile. "Her hunger strike is her choice. I'm not her chef. You should look at what she's eating, not at me."

Nicolas was left bewildered, stood silently for a while before shaking with anger and storming out of the room, frustrated.

Later that day, as I prepared to be discharged, family members surrounded me, unleashing a torrent of reproaches.

"You’re truly an ungrateful daughter! She loved you for nothing!"

"A disgrace dressed as a person! Your husband must be cursed to have married someone so hard-hearted!"

"Divorcing over this incident, how shameful you are!"

I listened to their criticism, indifferent until my patience wore thin. "Can you move aside? I need to get discharged."

Just then, Nicolas walked over with the payment receipt. Seeing me, he spoke softly, "Eliana, your mother misses you. Could you go and see her?"

I remained adamant. "Sign the divorce papers."

Nicolas' eyes watered. "In the moment of crisis, I could only reach your mother first. If that's troubling, I apologize, okay?"

He pleaded with hopeful eyes, "Just go see your mom, she hasn't even had water since yesterday. Even a quick visit."

Before I could decline, my relatives guided me to my mother's bedside.

Her eyes brightened briefly upon my arrival, but quickly turned wary. She spoke timidly, "Eliana, don’t be upset with me. I'll apologize; please don't divorce Nicolas."

Saying this, she struggled to her feet, then fell on her knees before me with a thud.