From Postpartum to Heartache

A few days before my postpartum period ended, I found two plane tickets to Mirelia tucked inside Daryl’s wallet.

I was secretly delighted. I thought he had planned a surprise for me.

But on the very day I was supposed to recover, he told me that his company had suddenly sent him on a business trip.

I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep—only to see his first love post on social media.

[Finally fulfilled our promise to kiss at Saint Vyron Cathedral. Thank you, God. After all this time, it’s still you.]

The photo showed the two of them holding hands and kissing.

I didn’t confront him right away. Instead, I turned to look at my sleeping daughter beside me, then picked up my phone.

[Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll take over the family business.]

Daryl Carter came home beaming, but I had already finished packing my suitcase.

He froze for a moment before asking, "Natalie, why are you packing?"

Without looking up, I replied calmly, "I'm staying at my dad's for a few days."

A flicker of surprise crossed Daryl's eyes before he pulled a crystal bracelet from his pocket and slipped it onto my wrist. Then, he wrapped an arm around me.

"I've been so busy with work lately that I even forgot when you finished your postpartum recovery. I'm sorry, honey."

"Yea."

My response was indifferent, and Daryl stared at me. When I didn't question him, his expression grew uneasy.

If this had been before, I would've pestered him for an explanation. I would've demanded answers until I was satisfied.

I had always thought that if the day ever came when I caught Daryl cheating, I would completely break down—I'd cry, scream, anything but stay this calm.

When I saw the plane tickets in Daryl’s wallet the other day, I was excited.

I thought maybe Daryl wasn't always so dense, that he actually knew how to make me feel appreciated sometimes. After all, having a baby wasn't easy.

He should care about me.

I had quietly waited in anticipation for his surprise, even making plans for Mirelia a day in advance.

But night fell, and he never came home.

The next day, just as the flight was supposed to have landed in Mirelia, I finally got a message from him.

[Last-minute business trip. We'll talk when I’m back.]

I finally understood—that trip was never meant for me.

He had completely forgotten that today wasn't just the end of my postpartum recovery. It was also our daughter, Jennifer Carter's one-month milestone.

I glanced at the Mirelia travel guide I had saved on my phone.

Now, it felt like nothing but a cruel joke.

Just then, my phone chimed with a ding—a new post on my social feed.

Daryl's first love had posted something.

Her location? Saint Vyron Cathedral in Mirelia.

The caption read: [Finally fulfilled our promise to kiss at Saint Vyron Cathedral. Thank you, God. After all this time, it’s still you.]

The photo showed the two of them holding hands and kissing.

I let out a cold laugh.

So in a man's heart, his first love was truly irreplaceable.

Just as I was recalling what had happened, Daryl wandered into the kitchen. He sniffed the air and frowned. "Did you eat spicy noodles again? How many times do I have to tell you? I hate that smell."

Ever since I learned Daryl didn't like the smell, I had practically given it up—along with my love for chili peppers and cilantro.

For years, I had been the one making compromises. But after seeing that photo, something inside me let go.

Why was I bending over backward for a man who didn't even love me?

At that moment, our baby started crying. I picked her up and turned toward the bedroom to nurse her.

But before I could leave, Daryl quickly stepped in front of me and blocked my way.