The doctor recommended I stay in the hospital for a week to monitor the baby's condition. If necessary, I'd need a C-section, and they advised having family by my side.

I chuckled bitterly. It seemed I no longer had a family.

I casually changed my husband's name to Eric Brown in my Twitter contacts.

When we married, I had left my family behind in a heated argument, moving to this city for love.

But after just two years of marriage, I found myself in this situation. How could I possibly face my parents now?

A whole week passed, and Eric finally remembered me.

"Where are you? When are you coming home?"

After coming so close to death, I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, feeling nothing.

I calmly replied, "At the hospital."

He immediately called me. "Is the baby okay? Should I come stay with you?"

"No need. I'm being discharged today."

"The hospital, huh? I'll come pick you up then."

I wanted to tell him not to bother, but he had already hung up.

I suddenly realized that in our relationship, I was always the passive one.

I was like a mindless machine, being tossed around by others.

It was only a ten-minute drive from the hospital to home, yet I waited for hours.

His phone was busy, and he wasn't responding to messages.

I waddled around with my big belly, handling all the discharge paperwork on my own.

The cleaner helped me out, warning me to be careful during the late stages of pregnancy. "It's easy to fall, don't climb stairs."

It had been so long since anyone had spoken to me kindly, I almost cried.

I called a Didi ride, and just as I got into the car, my phone buzzed.

It was Eric.

"On your way back, buy a durian. Get a Musang King, Jane wants one. She's never had durian before, so get her a good one."

Jane posted another update on Twitter: [Eric is amazing. We didn't leave the bed for three days.]

The thought was terrifying.

I should have known all along but still held on to a sliver of hope.

In his heart, I would never be the priority.

It wasn't the time to confront him yet, so I didn't enter the house right away. I stood at the door, calming myself.

Despite her serene name, Jane was wild in private.

I opened the door and saw Jane in a spaghetti-strap dress, writhing in Eric's lap.

She wasn't even afraid of me seeing them because whenever things escalated, I was the one who got scolded.

Seeing me return, she reluctantly got off him.

Eric noticed the bags in my hand and rushed over to help.

When he realized there was no durian, his face darkened.

"Didn't I tell you to get a durian? You're too cheap to even buy one."

He looked ready to explode.

I remembered how, in the early stages of pregnancy, I had terrible nausea and craved something sour.

I sent Eric out to get some plums or similar sour fruits.

Jane had made a snide remark, "I don't see other pregnant women acting as spoiled as you."

Eric had agreed, "Exactly, exactly. If you want something sour, drink some vinegar and don't waste our time."

Now I couldn't even muster the energy to argue. I snatched the bags and retreated to the guest room, which was also my bedroom.

Ever since I got pregnant, we had been sleeping in separate rooms.

He had a strong libido and was always on me, and I worried it would harm the baby, so I refused him.

The next day, Jane had taunted me again, "As a woman, if you can't even please your husband, what good are you?"

I hadn't expected my husband to share such intimate details with her. I confronted him, but he brushed it off.

He didn't think much of it. He said Jane was his elder and there was nothing she couldn't listen to.

Later, he started sleeping separately from me, annoyed by my nausea, my midnight bathroom trips, and my snoring.

Outside the room, Jane's voice rang out, "I wasn't that serious about the durian. I just mentioned it because I saw it on TV. Don't blame her."

I wondered if they didn't know how to walk or just didn't know where the fruit store was. I didn't care anymore.

I was just tired—tired of a life with no hope for the future.

"Eric, don't be mad. Let's do something fun," Jane cooed.

Moments later, I could hear the sound of their moans, mingling with the creaks of the old sofa.

Through the walls, I could faintly hear Eric's lustful voice, "Jane, you're so wild. Am I not enough for you anymore?"

Then he added, "I wonder what it's like to do it with a pregnant woman."

Terrified, I quickly scrambled up and locked the door.

The next day, when I woke up, both of them had already left the house.

The table was covered with dirty dishes, and clothes were scattered all over the sofa.

Jane's underwear lay carelessly on the floor.

After I got pregnant, Eric told me to stay home and rest while he took care of earning the money.

I've always been a diligent person and hated doing nothing, so I took on the household chores.

At first, Jane would say it wasn't necessary, but within a few days, she started giving me orders.

I didn't want to put Eric in a difficult position, so over time, the housework that was supposed to be mine kept increasing.

Jane's daily routine consisted of going out to play mahjong and attending yoga classes.

It wasn't until I heard from the neighbor that my father-in-law had left a large insurance payout after he passed away.

Jane was living quite comfortably. She wasn't suffering at all.

Yet, Eric never told me about this. They always pretended to be poor in front of me.

Our wedding dowry was only 30,000 dollars, and after the wedding, I had to chip in to buy a car.

The gold jewelry was the cheapest kind. The most expensive gift I ever received was a thousand-dollar watch, which Jane thought was too bright for her taste and gave to me.

There are many things that don't stand up to scrutiny.

I've always believed that loving someone means giving them everything, but love doesn't always return the same. What I got in return was them taking advantage of me, treating me like a fool, with no appreciation at all.

My best friend, Judy, messaged me. "I just opened a new writing studio, and I need a chief editor. Would you help me out?"

Since I was a child, I've always loved writing. I won several essay competitions, and when I was in middle school, I started serializing my own romance stories.

I later majored in drama and film literature at university.

My dream has always been to become a screenwriter, so everyone could see the stories I write.

My parents were proud of me, but everything changed after I met Eric.

A woman in love has zero intelligence.

I gave up everything to marry him, moving from the North to the South.

But now, it's time for everything to end.

Thinking about the impending divorce, I decided to start over.

The baby inside me didn't deserve to suffer for this.

"Sure, after I have the baby."

I replied.

My best friend sent me a comforting message. "Now that's the spirit! Making money is the best beauty treatment for a woman. I believe in you, girl!"

I calculated my due date—35 weeks along, about another 30 or 40 days to go.

I pulled out my old books and materials and decided to use this time to study hard.

Once the baby was born and I finished my recovery, I could jump right back into work, making money for the baby's formula.

Keeping busy made time fly, and I didn't have the energy to dwell on messy thoughts.

I immersed myself in the world of books, feeling as if my soul had found an outlet.

When Eric and Jane came home, I was reading and taking notes.

"Why aren't the dishes washed yet?"

"The clothes are scattered everywhere. What have you been doing all day?"

"Can't you at least take the trash out?"

"Did I marry a wife, or did I marry a lazy lord?"

Their voices echoed through the house like a performance, with Eric and Jane taking turns complaining.

I pretended not to hear. Whoever made the mess should clean it up. I wasn't a free maid.

Seeing that I was ignoring them for too long, Eric finally walked into my room.

"What are you doing, Gloria?" he demanded.

I waved the book in front of him. "Are you blind?"

"Can't you speak properly?" Eric was furious.

"Stop reading for a moment and go clean up. Look at the state of the house!"

In the past, I would've gone out right away because I didn't want to make things hard for him.

But not anymore. My time was too valuable to waste.

"You have hands, don't you? Clean up your own mess."

"You've got time to fool around, but no time to clean up, right?"

Eric didn't expect that I'd finally have the guts to say it.

Eric froze for a moment, then yelled, "Gloria, do you even know what you're saying?"

I looked up with a slight smile. "Do you even know what you're doing? You can't hide everything forever."

They had been so blatant already. Did they really think I was blind or deaf?

At the beginning, they weren't so obvious about it.

It was right after we got married, and I went shopping with Jane. We passed by a lingerie store, and after picking out what we needed, she selected a few pairs of men's underwear.

I was puzzled, and she smiled indulgently. "These are for Eric. I know his size better than anyone."

"You've just gotten married, so you wouldn't understand these things."

Later, there were nights when Jane would suddenly complain about a stomachache while we were in bed.

Eric would then go to her room to take care of her, preparing hot water and towels.

I always thought they were just overly close because they relied on each other.

But after we separated, I happened to pass by Jane's room one night and heard Eric's heavy breathing inside.

I peeked through the door crack and saw something that completely shocked me.