Belated Repentance

The day I died coincided with Christmas Eve.

The day marked the thirteenth year since I first met Jeffrey Hughes.

Inappropriately, I recalled thirteen years ago, when a young boy stumbled towards me, as if holding a heart in his hand.

Everything had changed, and so had the people.

Sadly, I died too soon, missing the moment when Jeffrey staggered towards me.

My tears streamed down my face, as if I had exhausted all the sorrow of this lifetime.

1.

The doctor's sympathetic gaze pierced me deeply.

Before leaving the hospital, I tossed the crumpled test results into the trash.

As I stepped out, snow began to fall. It wasn't until the cold wind, mixed with snowflakes, brushed against my face that I sluggishly realized winter had arrived again.

This year's winter came so early.

I tightened the scarf around my neck and pulled out my phone from my coat pocket, dialing a number I knew by heart. After it went unanswered and automatically hung up, I dialed again.

Over and over.

But no one answered.

I stood in the biting wind, my fingers turning blue and numb, like a forgotten toy left out in the cold.

"Buzz-"

My phone vibrated, and I quickly looked down-

It was just a notification.

#Shocking, the secret backer behind the popular actress is him!

I was about to delete it, but against my better judgment, I clicked on it.

The man on the screen, embracing a female star and kissing her passionately, had striking features and exuded desire. Especially from the way he looked at her, his gaze was openly filled with desire.

What a perfect match they made.

If only that man wasn't my husband, Jeffrey.

Even more ironically, the photo was taken just last night. Perhaps one moment he was sending me a goodnight message, and the next, he was laughing and flirting with another woman.

My vision quickly blurred.

It would have been better not to see it, and now I didn't even have the strength to swipe the phone screen.

2.

I returned home and casually turned on the living room light.

The house was empty and lifeless. The down payment on this house was paid by Jeffrey and I with our first earnings, and it was a testament to our journey together.

We used to think it was small and promised to buy a bigger house when we had more money. But when we did have money, this small house felt like the best place, so we stayed.

Now, it felt terrifyingly empty.

I put down the bag I had been carrying and went to the kitchen to pour a cup of hot water. Then I sat at the table, motionless.

We used to love beef stew on Christmas Eve.

I got up and returned to the kitchen. In the fridge, there was filling I had prepared in advance, Jeffrey's favorite flavor.

My hands moved numbly through the ingredients, while my mind drifted back to ten years ago today.

Jeffrey and I were just starting our business when we had just moved here. Back then, we had to stretch every penny, so everything, including furniture, was simple.

Our table was a small, square wooden one we picked up from a second-hand market. We made the beef stew, and ate it on that table, getting through that tough startup period.

Jeffrey loved the beef stew made by me, saying it tasted like home. But we were both orphans, so where was home? We just found solace in each other's company.

Four years ago, Jeffrey threw out that small table. After all, sometimes old things needed to be let go.

The beef stew was done and smelt great.

I glanced at the time; it was getting late, and Jeffrey would be off work soon. I rushed to put the finished beef stew in an insulated container so that he could have a hot beef stew when he got home.

Today was Christmas Eve, and Jeffrey once promised to spend every Christmas Eve with me. He would definitely come home today.

He had to, right?

I sat at the dining table, watching the steam inside the insulated container slowly dissipate, watching the beef stew in front of me grow cold.

But Jeffrey still didn't come home.

There was no sound at the door, no messages on my phone.

Just wait a little longer, I kept reassuring myself, just a little longer.

Maybe he would come back in the next moment.

3.

"Ding dong, ding dong-"

The doorbell rang insistently, and I hurried to open the door.

A wave of alcohol hit me as Brad Lambert, a tall, thin young man supporting Jeffrey said helplessly, "Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Hughes drank too much. Let me help him inside."

Hearing this, I stepped aside to let him help Jeffrey into the room.

Brad struggled to help Jeffrey onto the bed, then turned to me and said, "Mrs. Hughes, I'll leave the rest to you."

With that, he left the room.

The room was filled with the smell of alcohol, so I quickly opened the window to air it out. Remembering Jeffrey often suffered from headaches after a hangover, I hurried to the kitchen to make him a remedy for hangovers.

Before the remedy was ready, the sound of vomiting reached my ears. I returned to the room to find the inevitable mess.

Hastily, I changed Jeffrey into soft pajamas and dragged him to the guest room, then efficiently cleaned up the vomit.

This had happened so many times that it no longer surprised me. At least I had become quite adept at handling it.

This marriage felt like a constant exercise in patience and self-sacrifice for me. I had no job, no social life, and always felt at a disadvantage in front of my husband.

There was no time to complain, as I had to rush back to the kitchen to serve the cooled remedy for hangovers to the half-asleep Jeffrey.

By the time I finished all these tasks, it was already the middle of the night. It wasn't until my stomach growled that I realized I hadn't eaten dinner.

I reheated the cooled beef stew in the microwave, taking the opportunity to throw Jeffrey's dirty clothes into the washing machine.

As I placed each item from the laundry basket into the machine, such a simple task became disheartening when I picked up Jeffrey's white shirt.

Just below the collar was a conspicuous lipstick mark, both subtle and telling.

I was aware of Jeffrey's affairs, but I always turned a blind eye. It wasn't that I didn't care, but I was just too afraid to confront it, fearing that even the last shred of affection would vanish.

I could only deceive myself, pretending I knew nothing, saw nothing. Like many women in similar situations, I maintained my pitiful marriage.

I didn't know how to face it, so I threw the shirt into the washing machine, as if cleaning it would somehow cleanse my marriage.

How pathetic.

4.

It was another sleepless night.

My chest ached from coughing, and I covered my mouth to muffle the sound. The old house had poor soundproofing, and I didn't want to wake Jeffrey.

Taking care of his needs had become my ingrained habit. I would watch over his health, reminding him to dress warmly when it was cold.

Jeffrey used to tease me, calling me his personal caretaker, always by his side.

Now, it seemed I had truly become his possession.

The next morning, I got up early.

Considering Jeffrey's hangover, I made a pot of soup and warmed up the leftover beef stew from the night before.

As I was picking up the beef stew, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me, and a familiar, husky voice whispered in my ear.

"Darling, this hangover is killing me~"

He unconsciously buried his head in my shoulder, drawing out his words like a child seeking comfort.

His fluffy hair tickled my neck, and I couldn't help but tilt my head, saying to him, "Jeffrey, stop fooling around. Go freshen up, breakfast will be ready soon."

Jeffrey leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek before letting go and obediently heading to the bathroom.

When he leaned in, a complex mix of emotions welled up inside me, leaving me frozen until he released me. I then resumed my unfinished tasks.

"Darling~" Jeffrey shook his head, his freshly washed hair dripping water.

He wore soft, comfortable pajamas, looking more like the fresh-faced college student I remembered than a man in his thirties.

I paused for a moment, then quickly responded, "Go dry your hair, it's wet, if you don't want to catch a cold." My ears burned under my hair.

Jeffrey looked at me with a playful smile, pinching my ear before smugly saying, "Darling, were you just staring at me? Were you thinking, 'Wow, my husband really is handsome!'?"

He raised his voice playfully at the end, flashing me a grin.