Chapter 1
On the wedding day, with friends and family gathered, his first love appeared in a wedding dress with her wrists cut, pushing me down, claiming it was her wedding as my husband had promised. My husband, filled with pity, carried her out, saying, “Alright, alright, let’s get to the hospital first; we’ll plan the wedding later.”
Plan later? What planning? He didn’t notice me, bleeding heavily on the ground…
… On the wedding day, I touched my belly, forcing a smile. If I weren’t pregnant, I wouldn’t even want this marriage. Who could have imagined? My husband’s supposedly severed relationship with Adeline, his first love, suddenly turned into an amnesia case. She remembered only being 16, and my husband, also 16, promising to marry her. In his eyes, she became that pure, unblemished girl again.
At the most crucial moment of the wedding, Adeline stormed in wearing a blood-stained wedding dress. Her wrists bled continuously, staining the hem of her dress, as she looked at my husband, “Declan, you promised you’d only marry me. This is my wedding, right?” I felt sick.
Amnesia, melodrama, constant suicidal attempts—who believes that nonsense? My husband Declan is the one who does. He gently comforted her, trying to stop her bleeding, while she kept acting coy, forcing him to swear oaths. I stood on stage, feeling cold from head to toe, my heart nearly frozen.
Below, friends and family whispered, their murmurs feeling like countless hands stripping me bare, exposing me publicly. This was my wedding. A woman’s most glorious, significant moment in life? Ridiculous. Even more ridiculous, Declan finally embraced Adeline, waving at me without looking back, “Fiona, you saw it yourself. I need to get her to the hospital quickly.”
Of course, he had to rush her to the hospital. Any delay and she might magically heal. Adeline clung to Declan’s neck, acting all cute, “Say it’s my wedding, or I won’t go to the hospital.” Declan doted on her, “Yes, yes, it’s your wedding. All yours.”
I bit my lip, blocking him, “Declan, think it through. You’re the groom. This is our wedding. Are you sure you want to leave?” Declan hesitated a moment. Adeline suddenly raged, pushing me violently, “You homewrecker, go die.” After pushing me, she fainted dramatically in Declan’s arms. Declan carried his first love away, saying, “I’ll get her to the hospital first; we’ll plan the wedding later.”
Plan later? There’s no more planning! None at all. I lay there, holding my belly, watching the blood pool beneath me, feeling utterly desolate.
… “My baby, my baby…” “My belly hurts so much…” After the runaway groom incident, amidst my cries, the wedding turned into a farce. Friends and family from both sides cursed Declan and took me to the hospital.
The emergency room doctor glanced at me, and his face changed. As I was pushed into the operating room, he kept calling for consultations, mentioning miscarriage and massive bleeding. The critical condition notice came out, but no one was qualified to sign it. I struggled, repeatedly dialing Declan’s phone. Friends and family also tried calling him. No one could reach him. Before losing consciousness, I received a message from him: “Fiona, stop calling. Tell them to stop too. It’s affecting her mood, and I won’t let it go.”
Affecting her mood… Our child is dying, I’m dying, and you’re worried about Adeline’s mood. Let it be. I was resigned, letting the medical staff do as they pleased. Before losing consciousness, I heard a doctor yelling, “Damn it, save her, I’ll take responsibility…”
… Days later, I was alone at home, numb and lost, like a wandering soul. Declan came home, a suit draped over his shoulder, kicking off his shoes as he sank into the couch. “Bring me a basin of water to wash my feet.” I didn’t move, quietly leaning against the door, watching him. He closed his eyes, didn’t hear a response, and rubbed his temples in frustration. “I’ve been exhausted for days, don’t make me more annoyed, be sensible.”
Before, seeing him like this, I’d feel sorry, even if Declan had a bad attitude. I’d massage his shoulders and legs, doing my best to be gentle. Now, I was indifferent, calmly saying, “Declan, let’s divorce. You’re tired, and so am I.”
I regretted getting the marriage certificate first. Without that paper binding us, there wouldn’t have been this wedding, nor would he have kept compromising until… I touched my belly, feeling emptiness, like a part of my heart had been cut out. Now, I only felt ridiculous and didn’t want any connection with him.
Declan paused, opened his eyes, and looked at me coldly, “Fiona, do you think this is fun?” “Adeline is a patient. Why are you competing with a patient?” “Do you know if the cut was half a millimeter deeper, she could have died?” “How can you be so cold-blooded?”
I sneered, unmoved, finding it laughable. I’d heard similar things countless times, memorized them. “Oh… really?” “So what’s the result?” “Did she really die?” “Last time, the time before, and the time before that, did she die?” Maybe I once had sympathy, now there’s only disdain.
Sympathy for her, who has sympathy for me? Since Adeline got sick, she turned my legally wedded husband into her exclusive possession. She monopolizes my husband, yet insists on more. She wants what I have, and more of what I don’t.
It started with small Valentine’s Day gifts, flowers, chocolates, cards. She questioned my husband publicly about his infidelity, asking if he didn’t love her anymore. The result was Adeline threatening to jump off a bridge, forcing my husband to snatch the flowers and chocolates meant for me and give them to her. My husband promised to only spoil her, and she was satisfied, pulling him home with a smile.
That Valentine’s Day, I sat dazed in a hotel while my husband comforted another woman at her place. That time, Declan felt guilty, showing up the next morning with flowers outside the hotel room as compensation. He said she was just sick, and once she got better, he’d leave her immediately.
So I believed him. Believing led to retreating step by step, endlessly until there was no retreat left. I even began to doubt myself, wondering if fighting for a little space and rights was bullying a patient. Was I too unsympathetic? Of course, Declan thought so too.
In this endless entanglement, I went from anger to numbness in less than half a year. Until I discovered Adeline was faking it, I finally woke up. But when I explained to Declan, it was too late. My heart had cooled, and I knew our marriage had reached its end. Yet, at this critical moment, I found out I was pregnant.
I thought maybe having a child would make Declan come to his senses, see the truth, and return to me. But the truth was utterly ironic. He didn’t care about me, how could he care about a child? Now, the child is gone. Is he satisfied?
Declan’s pupils contracted, standing abruptly from the sofa, staring at me, “Fiona, do you know what you’re saying?” I heard his suppressed anger, but I didn’t back down, “Does it sound harsh? Afraid I tainted your precious first love?” “Or are you scared my words will come true, and you can’t handle it?”
“If she’s so important to you, why keep entangling with me? Let’s divorce. Once we divorce, you’re free.” From school uniform to wedding dress, from university to now, it’s been six years. For six years, I always gave in. Now, I won’t endure anymore!
Declan, furious, slapped me, leaving five finger marks. I covered my face, avoiding his instinctively reaching hand, eyes full of disgust and hatred. Declan was at a loss, “Fiona, I didn’t mean to…” I turned to leave, but Declan grabbed me, hurriedly pulling out a jade bracelet, trying to remedy the situation, “Fiona, I know you’ve always liked my family’s jade bracelet, so I brought it today. I promise I’ll make it up to you with a grander wedding in the future, and you won’t suffer any more grievances.”
“Adeline is just sick. Once she gets better, I’ll leave her. Just bear with it a bit longer, for me.” Seeing the jade bracelet, I found it laughable. He’s probably lost between me and Adeline. I never liked the jade bracelet. I only cared about him finding the matching rings we made out of candy wrappers in college. But those rings have been taken by Adeline, maybe burned or thrown in the trash. Who knows?
The glaring marks on my face didn’t diminish my smile, “And next time? If she gets sick again, will you watch her die?” Declan tried to explain, “Adeline is just unwell right now. Once she’s better, I’ll leave her for sure. Please bear with it for now, for my sake.”
The jade bracelet seemed absurd to me. He appeared confused, torn between me and Adeline.
I never cared for jade bracelets. What mattered to me was his promise to find the matching rings we made with candy wrappers back in college.
But Adeline had already taken those rings, possibly burned or thrown them away. Who knows?
I had noticeable scars on my face, but my smile remained unfazed. “What about next time? If she falls ill again, will you just let her die?”
Declan tried to assure me, “Next time, I won’t let her disrupt our wedding.”
“Answer me directly.”
“Fiona, why are you being so confrontational? You know Adeline is ill!”