Betrayal's Scars, A New Beginning

Shi Huatu

Romance | Completed

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Today was my ninth wedding anniversary, and I lay in a hospital bed, recovering from a hysterectomy. My husband, Mark, sent a diamond necklace, but instead of him, a young woman' s voice answered his phone. "This is Emily. Please, don' t do this to Mark." Her tearful plea implied she had picked out my anniversary gift with him. He then agreed to a divorce-eagerly, relieved-hanging up before I could speak. He never showed up at the courthouse. He promised to meet me. He broke that promise. Two months later, he stumbled home, drunk, offering me a luxury watch as if it could erase his betrayal. "A divorce? We' re not getting a divorce," he slurred. I saw him days later, laughing intimately with Emily at a café, while I was dealing with more than just a broken marriage. "I have uterine cancer." The words were out, shattering the fragile peace. "You have cancer and you' re telling me now? How could you keep that from me?" he shouted, not out of concern, but anger at how it looked. He raged about losing control, about how this affected him, not once asking about my pain. I had been alone in a hospital bed, recovering from surgery, while he was at a gala with Emily, the "close companion," the night of my surgery. He thought I was making a scene, when he was the one who had brought Emily to his parents' home, to Lily' s birthday party. His mother praised Emily, who' d planned my daughter' s party. They all stood there, a united front: Mark, his parents, and his mistress, making me the villain. His cruelty was breathtaking. "She' s just bitter," he announced to the silent room. "She' s bitter because she' s not a complete woman anymore. She had to have a hysterectomy. She has cancer. She can' t have any more children. She' s broken." He had taken my deepest vulnerability, my illness, and used it as a weapon to humiliate me publicly. Something inside me snapped. I slapped him, hard, the sound echoing through the stunned silence. Emily shrieked and lunged, but I sidestepped, and she crashed into a table. "It' s all yours," I said, my voice ringing with finality. "You can have him. You can have this whole rotten family. We' re done." I walked out, hand in hand with my daughter, leaving the wreckage behind.

Modern Betrayal Revenge Divorce Personal growth

Chapter 10

The day before yesterday 21:11

Introduction

Today was my ninth wedding anniversary, and I lay in a hospital bed, recovering from a hysterectomy.

My husband, Mark, sent a diamond necklace, but instead of him, a young woman' s voice answered his phone.

"This is Emily. Please, don' t do this to Mark."

Her tearful plea implied she had picked out my anniversary gift with him.

He then agreed to a divorce-eagerly, relieved-hanging up before I could speak.

He never showed up at the courthouse.

He promised to meet me. He broke that promise.

Two months later, he stumbled home, drunk, offering me a luxury watch as if it could erase his betrayal.

"A divorce? We' re not getting a divorce," he slurred.

I saw him days later, laughing intimately with Emily at a café, while I was dealing with more than just a broken marriage.

"I have uterine cancer."

The words were out, shattering the fragile peace.

"You have cancer and you' re telling me now? How could you keep that from me?" he shouted, not out of concern, but anger at how it looked.

He raged about losing control, about how this affected him, not once asking about my pain.

I had been alone in a hospital bed, recovering from surgery, while he was at a gala with Emily, the "close companion," the night of my surgery.

He thought I was making a scene, when he was the one who had brought Emily to his parents' home, to Lily' s birthday party.

His mother praised Emily, who' d planned my daughter' s party.

They all stood there, a united front: Mark, his parents, and his mistress, making me the villain.

His cruelty was breathtaking.

"She' s just bitter," he announced to the silent room. "She' s bitter because she' s not a complete woman anymore. She had to have a hysterectomy. She has cancer. She can' t have any more children. She' s broken."

He had taken my deepest vulnerability, my illness, and used it as a weapon to humiliate me publicly.

Something inside me snapped.

I slapped him, hard, the sound echoing through the stunned silence.

Emily shrieked and lunged, but I sidestepped, and she crashed into a table.

"It' s all yours," I said, my voice ringing with finality. "You can have him. You can have this whole rotten family. We' re done."

I walked out, hand in hand with my daughter, leaving the wreckage behind.