Hate: The Final Shape of Love

Chapter 1 On the day of my prenatal checkup, my husband, Herbert Moore, abandoned me on a highway. He did that just to spend tens of millions to buy his childhood friend’s first night.

I cried and begged him not to leave, but Herbert coldly pushed me away. “There’s an emergency at the company. I’m sure you can handle the checkup on your own.”

I was knocked down by the car door and started to bleed heavily.

I called his phone. “My stomach hurts so much…”

It wasn’t until the 99th call that he finally picked up, his voice full of impatience, “Stop making things up. You’re perfectly fine. Why would anything be wrong with you?”

I shook my head as tears streamed down my face. “It’s not like that…”

“Stop being so pathetic.” Herbert hung up in disgust.

…

When I woke up, I saw an Instagram post from Vivian Cruz, Herbert’s childhood friend. The photo showed a man’s back covered in passionate scratch marks with the caption “Are older men always this amazing?”

Herbert even replied under the post. “I’ll come find you if you ever call me an old man again.”

His friends chimed in beneath. “Herbie is the real deal. Ten years of secret love, and he finally got the woman he’s always wanted. That 30 million was worth it!”

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. So, she was the one Herbert truly held in his heart.

A wave of pain surged through my lower abdomen, but I held back my sorrow and sent him a message. “Let’s divorce.”

Immediately, his call came in.

His voice roared through the line, “Are you out of your mind? Just because I didn’t go with you to a checkup, you want a divorce? Are you serious?”

When he proposed to me back then, he promised, “Stella, even if you grow old and lose your looks, I’ll still love you.”

But now, he scoffed mockingly. “You’re pregnant; have you even looked in the mirror? Who would want someone old and haggard like you?

“You’re in her thirties; are you really so naive? Do you think you’re still a young woman? I don’t have time to play your games.”

I placed a hand on my now-flat belly. While he was lighting candles for a luxurious night with his dream woman, our baby was already gone.

I hung up.

Outside the hospital room, the nurses were still chatting and giggling. “Did you hear? The Cruz family went bankrupt. To pay off the debts, Vivian auctioned off her first night. Tons of men fought over it.

Another nurse replied, “Mr. Moore didn’t even hesitate when he dropped a bombshell bid and swept her into his arms. It was so manly!”

“Oh my god, Mr. Moore is so devoted. I hope they end up together!” a third nurse exclaimed.

A sense of sourness gripped my chest. If the man they were talking about wasn’t my husband, maybe I could’ve sincerely wished them well.

Before Vivian returned to the country, Herbert had treated me with great care—always warming up milk for me, giving me morning kisses.

However, ever since she returned on our wedding anniversary, she would always find excuses to pull Herbert away.

Every time we tried to have a romantic moment, she’d interrupt us. Then, she’d mocked Herbert for lacking charm while sabotaging our plans over and over.

On my birthday, she ripped my dress in front of everyone. She knew that I was allergic to shrimp, but still sent me seafood, causing me to be hospitalized for days.

At first, Herbert said, “Vivi is just immature. Please be patient with her.”

As I questioned him more, he grew annoyed. “We’re just close friends. You’re overthinking.”

I pressed, “Just friends?”

He lost his patience. “Stop being so impure.”

But what kind of “friends” bid on the other’s first night and end up in bed together?

…

When I got discharged and returned home, the living room was a mess.

Herbert walked out, froze for a second when he saw me, then casually asked, “You’re back? How did the checkup go?”

Chapter 2 Before I could respond, he casually informed me, “Oh right, I forgot to tell you. Vivi’s family went bankrupt, and their enemies are coming after her for debts.

“She’s just a young woman. I don’t feel safe leaving her alone out there, so she’ll be staying with us for now.”

The “young woman” peeked out from behind him with a grin and stuck her tongue out at me. “Hi, Stella.”

She was wearing Herbert’s pajamas, and even the slippers on her feet were from the matching couple’s set I had bought him.

I looked at Herbert with a mocking gaze.

He instinctively tried to explain, “Vivi forgot to bring her pajamas, so I just grabbed something for her to wear.”

Vivian put on a sweet and innocent expression. “Stella, you don’t mind, right? Herbie and I grew up together. When we were kids, we were so close that we were literally joined at the hip.”

Herbert scolded her, but his tone was full of doting affection. “Vivi!”

Vivian pouted and pinched his waist. “Hmph! Stella, look at him! He totally forgot his childhood bestie after getting married!”

“Vivi, stop fooling around. Stella is right here,” he said, halfheartedly.

Watching them bicker and flirt so intimately made my stomach churn. I rushed to the bathroom, overwhelmed by nausea, and vomited violently.

Then, I saw it. Five to six used condom wrappers in the trash can. I could only imagine how intense last night had been between them.

I clenched my palms until they started to hurt, and my eyes welling with tears.

Herbert came after me and patted my back. “Morning sickness again? I’ll get you some dried plums…”

But as he turned, his expression faltered, and he said awkwardly, “Oh… we’re out of dried plums. I’ll get you something else, okay?”

How could there be none? He knew my pregnancy nausea was severe, so we always had dried plums at home.

Vivian pointed at the trash can while saying with a sweet voice, “Sorry, Stella. I was craving something sour, so Herbie gave them all to me. You know I’m different from delicate women like one. I can down the whole bag in just one bite.”

She then glared pitifully at Herbert. “Herbie, seriously? You knew Stella had morning sickness, and you still gave me all the dried plums?”

She reached out and took my hand, even squeezing out a couple of tears. “Stella, it’s all my fault. I’m just too greedy…”

I flung her hand away.

Herbert’s expression instantly darkened. “What’s with your attitude? It’s just some dried plums. I paid for your food, your clothes. Everything. What right do you have to give Vivi that kind of attitude?”

My chest tightened. The pain after the procedure had flared up again. It was so intense I could barely breathe.

He left a pregnant woman like me on the highway without a word of concern. Now, he was furious just because I shook off Vivian’s hand.

Herbert realized he might have gone too far, so he softened his tone slightly and offered me a way out, “Fine. You’re pregnant, so I won’t hold it against you. Just apologize to Vivi, and we’ll move on.”

“Why should I?” I said. Why should I apologize to her for eating my dried plums?

I choked out the question, heart heavy like it was stuffed with wet cotton, heavy and suffocating.

Herbert said righteously, “Because you’re older and supposed to be mature. You should know how to forgive someone. Unlike Vivi, she’s sensitive and can’t handle being wronged.”

Then, despite Herbert knowing that I was claustrophobic, he locked me in the bathroom. “If you won’t apologize, then you’re sleeping in there tonight. Apologize to Vivi, and I’ll let you out.”

Vivian hesitated. “But… locking Stella in the bathroom isn’t right, is it?”

“Don’t worry about her,” he said coldly. “Pregnant old women are just petty. She needs to be taught a lesson.”

Suddenly, the bathroom light began flickering and then went out completely.

Trapped in the dark, confined space, I slammed against the door, crying and begging. “Herbert, I was wrong… I know I was wrong… please, I’m begging you… let me out…”

Chapter 3 All I could hear were the sounds of their intimate entanglement coming from the room beside me.

“Herbie, are you really that obsessed with my body? I can’t take it anymore…” Vivian said.

“I spent 30 million—of course I want to enjoy myself, you little vixen…” Herbert said.

Vivian was drowning in pleasure. “Ah… Herbie…”

…

The next morning, when the sun was already out, Herbert finally opened the bathroom door. “So? Do you know what you did wrong?”

I was slumped on the floor, eyes red, hands trembling.

Herbert frowned. “It was just some time to reflect in the bathroom. Why the long face? Don’t make it sound like I abused you.”

When I was a child, I’d been kidnapped by gangsters. In order to extort money from my parents, they locked me in a dog cage and tortured me for three days and nights. Since then, I couldn’t stand being in enclosed, cramped spaces alone.

When Herbert found out, he held me tightly and said, “Honey, I swear I’ll never let you go through something like that ever again.”

But now, just to defend his precious childhood sweetheart, he had locked me in the bathroom for an entire night.

“Since you’re awake, come eat breakfast. Even if you don’t want to eat, don’t starve the baby in your belly,” Herbert said neglectfully.

I got up with difficulty and went to the dining table, where the only thing left was chive ravioli. I disliked chive ravioli.

I took a bite. It was hard and cold.

Vivian had just finished her bowl of warm oatmeal with poached egg.

She looked at me with a smile. “Stella, Herbie is such a great cook! I just casually mentioned wanting a sandwich and oatmeal with poached egg, and he went and made it for me himself. I’m so jealous. You get to eat breakfast made by Herbie every day. You’re so lucky!”

Herbert’s expression stiffened, and he tried to play it down. “I’m busy managing billion-dollar contracts. Who has time to play housewife with her?”

I felt like there was a bone stuck in my throat. In the years of our marriage, he always said his hands were made for signing billion-dollar deals, not for chopping vegetables or cooking. Even when I was sick with a fever, he never stepped foot into the kitchen, let alone made oatmeal.

Yet Vivian effortlessly received everything I had never experienced.

Perhaps feeling guilty about what happened the night before, Herbert suggested taking me out for a candlelight dinner. I thought maybe that would be the best time to talk about the divorce.

Once we were in the car, I reached out absentmindedly and pulled out a piece of pink lace lingerie.

Herbert’s face changed instantly. However, without even flinching, he lied, “A gift I prepared for you. Do you like it?”

I stared at the suspicious wet stains on it and smiled.

Herbert hurried to explain, “Vivi said she’s never worn something so girly before, so I let her try it on. It got dirty a bit. Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.” I cut him off. “Just let me know when we arrive.”

We drove around to a few restaurants, but Herbert found fault with all of them while frowning and glued to his phone.

Suddenly, his screen lit up, displaying the contact name “Baby Vivi.” It was only then that Herbert’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.

My eyes dimmed.

We’d known each other for ten years, and his contact name for me had always been just my full name. He said there was no need to be mushy when you were an old married couple.

However, Vivian had always been his exception, his preference.

Finally, we settled on a restaurant.

Just as we sat down, Vivian suddenly appeared with a stranger in tow. “Wow! I told Herbie this afternoon that he should take you out on a date to make it up to you. Look at him go! He really followed through! And this restaurant is totally my vibe!”

Then, she added with a sour tone, “A man this attentive and devoted is so rare. Stella, I’m so jealous! Poor me, I still have to go on blind dates to find someone…”

Chapter 4 The orange juice I had just now was sweet and tangy, but all that remained in my mouth was a bitter aftertaste.

Last week, I had made a dinner reservation, hoping to have a meal with Herbert, and yet he told me he was too busy with work and didn’t have time.

However, with just one word from Vivian, he willingly pushed everything aside to take me out on a “date”. For her.

Herbert had never once cared about my feelings. His eyes were locked on Vivian holding hands with that man. “Who gave you permission to go on a blind date on your own?”

“What’s it to you? You haven’t had time to go shopping with me since you got married!” The two of them argued, and Vivian burst into tears. “I don’t want you controlling me! Who are you to me anyway? Go take care of your precious wife!”

Herbert snapped, “As long as you’re my good friend, I’ll look after you for life! From now on, you’re not allowed to see that man again!”

Watching Herbert getting jealous over Vivian made my numb heart ache all over again, and I lost my appetite

As we stepped out, a large dog suddenly lunged at us.

Vivian shrieked in fear, “Herbie! Save me!”

At the critical moment, Herbert grabbed a wooden stick and shielded Vivian behind him, pushing me aside instead.

I looked back in disbelief. The dog pounced on me, viciously biting my calf. The searing pain overwhelmed me as I screamed for help.

Herbert was covering Vivian’s eyes. “Don’t look! What if it traumatizes you?”

A chunk of flesh was torn from my leg. Hearing the gruesome sound of that happening, my face went completely pale before I blacked out from the pain.

When I woke up in the hospital, the IV in my hand had already backflowed.

A nurse rushed in, flustered. “Where’s your husband? You’re in such bad shape. Why isn’t he taking care of you?”

Herbert strolled in slowly, sounding guilty, “Honey, I’m sorry. It was an emergency. I had to protect Vivi, who was the closest to me. I’ll make it up to you.”

I noticed his shirt buttons were misaligned, revealing a hickey beneath the fabric.

My heart sank. In the two hours I was unconscious, my husband had gone to be intimate with Vivian again.

I took out the divorce papers I had prepared. “If you really want to make it up to me, then sign here.”

Herbert didn’t even glance at it; he signed immediately. “Whatever villa you want to buy, just go ahead…”

I looked him straight in the eye. “Aren’t you worried that I just made you sign divorce papers?”

Herbert raised an eyebrow. “Impossible. You love me too much to ever ask for a divorce.”

My heart gave a painful jolt.

Just then, the hospital TV started playing footage of the “Newcomer of the Year” award from a design competition.

The winning artwork on display was my “Rose Maiden”, but the signature on it was Vivian’s.

The announcer of the show said, “This Vivian Cruz is amazing! Even though her family went bankrupt, she’s clearly a talented artist. Look, she only entered the contest for the first time and had already won first prize!”

My mind went completely blank. “Rose Maiden” had always been kept in my storage room. It was a tribute I painted in memory of my late mother. It was her memorial portrait. The only person who had ever seen it was Herbert.

Back then, he comforted me, “Even though your mom’s gone, you still have this painting, and you still have me.”

I turned toward Herbert, who was clearly feeling guilty.

“Why?” I asked.

My most cherished artwork had been stolen but Herbert brushed it off like it was nothing. “It’s just a trophy. You’ve won so many already. Let Vivi have one. What’s the big deal? Don’t be so petty.”