Saying Goodbye to The Old Bitter Love

The sudden blazing in my neighborhood jolted me awake. Yet, when I looked around, I found there was no one in the house. It was empty.

Terrified, I called Martin Calhoon, my husband. Just when I turned my head, the door burst open and I saw him running toward me without single clothes on his body.

He immediately scooped me up and carried me down the stairs. As we fled, my eyes caught the vivid red scratch marks all over his body and his neck was littered with countless kiss marks.

"Why were you outside?" I choked, my voice trembling as my pregnant belly tightened painfully.

Suddenly, my eyes caught a familiar figure in the midst of the disorderly crowd. She was in an equally disheveled state like everybody else. Yet, her hands were clutching my husband's coat and shoes.

I immediately recognized her because she bore an eerie resemblance to me. She was Martin's new secretary.

So, the man who once adored and cherished me above everything else had betrayed me.

Then, I made a phone call, “Mom, about the immigration plan … I agree.”

That call across the ocean became the final note in the symphony of my marriage.

——

“Doctor, I’m five months along. Can I still terminate the pregnancy?”

Since the moment I got pregnant, Martin had been present at every checkup. No matter how packed his schedule, he had always found the time to accompany me.

When I stared at his silhouette through the window of the clinic, a mix of sorrow and anger was welling inside me and I finally asked those questions.

Seeing my doctor, who was in the middle of checking me, froze, I started panicking. The doctor immediately apologized and asked me in surprise, "Do you want to terminate this pregnancy?"

Seeing the determination in my eyes, she answered carefully, "It's possible to have an abortion, but you need to have the father sign the agreement."

The doctor became awkward and tried to persuade me but I could not hear a word she was saying, no matter how much she tried.

That night, Martin claimed that the reason he was naked was because he had drunk a lot during a business meeting and vomited all over his body so he had to take off his clothes.

Yet, I did not believe a single word he said.

Meanwhile, the news of his deed ran rampant on the internet. It said that a CEO risked his life to save a pregnant wife in an ablaze house. The media applauded him as a heroic husband, the epitome of a good man.

The love story of a rich CEO was exposed on the internet. Our love story from childhood sweetheart to our lavish wedding became a trending topic.

Even my wedding dress, a priceless diamond wedding dress, was also posted online. For the time being, Martin's love became a mythical story all over the world.

Although I knew his love was real, he also did not love me that much. He had long lost his love for me.

After the check-up, Martin cautiously helped me out of the clinic. His concern for me and my unborn child was palpable. Although I could feel him glancing at me cautiously over and over again, I pretended I did not notice them and kept walking forward.

Even though I planned to terminate the pregnancy, I still underwent routine examinations. During one, as the rhythmic sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, his phone buzzed.

Instinctively, my eyes flicked to the screen and saw Jenna Miller's name there.

Then, not like he had before, listening to the fetal heartbeat check until it was finished, he excused himself before it was done, went out and answered the call.

His tone was colder, more distant than I had heard before, but I recognized the undercurrent of deception.

“Wait, I’ll be there soon,” he said.

When he returned, Martin walked, pulled my shoulder into his embrace and leaned closer to explain in a low voice, "A major client showed up unexpectedly. I’ll head back to the office and pick you up afterward.”

The doctor, who was checking on me, smiled and praised him as she usually did, "What a wonderful husband you have.”

I kept my head down, but I could not smile anymore.

After he left, I stayed in the hospital bed, listening to the steady heartbeat of the child inside me.

When it was time to go, I didn’t wait for him. I hailed a cab and returned home alone.

That night, he came home and tried to cheer me up as usual. He even called his act of leaving me behind for work “a terrible mistake".