A Visitor in Your Life

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry.

I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number.

I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee.

It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!"

On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building.

I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

A week after I was discharged from the hospital, my husband Kyron finally returned home.

He looked carefree and smug, but beneath that, he seemed guilty.

I remained calm as I portioned the medications the doctors had prescribed. I did not press him about his disappearance.

"Courtney, I told you about opening a new branch before. It's finally happening!" he exclaimed, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Trust me, things will get better. I didn't contact you because I was busy with this matter. You won't hold it against me, will you?"

I couldn't even muster a fake smile. I moved my lips but nothing came out.

This wasn't the first time Kyron had acted this way. He would manage excuses that sounded reasonable to shut me down each time.

Seeing my lack of reaction, he came over to hug me. I stood up and avoided him.

I said softly, "I'm not mad, but please don't touch me."

Kyron's hands hovered mid-air, he was seemingly unable to believe what was happening.

He chuckled. "Courtney, I'm sorry. Don't be angry, okay? You don't look pretty when you're angry."

I didn't respond.

Look at him. He was still condescending, even when trying to placate me.

It's a pity I only realized this now.

"Guess what I got for you!" he said as he picked up a bag by the entrance. It was a beautifully crafted box with a logo from the city's top restaurant.

"Today's grilled lobster is top-notch. I brought it back especially for you to try," he said excitedly, opening the box and rubbing his hands together. "You love it. Come and have a taste."

I stood there silently.

The sadness felt like a nail pinning me to the spot.

Watching his clownish performance, I managed a faint smile.

"Kyron, we've been married for seven years. I've never eaten seafood. Where did you get the idea that it's my favorite?"

Kyron's hand trembled and the cutlery in his grasp fell to the ground.

His face showed a mix of emotions, but none of them was guilt. There was a hint of discomfort as if he were annoyed that I wasn't playing along.

"I'm sorry, Courtney. I was too busy; I forgot," he said.

He hadn't forgotten anything. Grilled lobster was Fiona's favorite. He had just confused me with someone else.

Kyron tried to make amends as he pulled out a jewelry box. He handed it to me with a smile, saying, "This is the real surprise. Open it and see."

I looked at the logo on the box. It was a luxury brand, but I had no idea what was inside.

When I finally opened it, my eyes started to sting.

This gold-plated necklace was the one Fiona had posted about on her social media earlier that day.

It was a gift to go with her diamond ring.

In other words, he was trying to pawn off Fiona's unwanted junk on me and expected me to be grateful.

I still remembered the caption from Fiona's post.

"With a luxury brand for comparison, this necklace is only fit to be tossed to a beggar. People are always willing to take my trash off my hands."

Apparently, I was that beggar.

And I finally understood why Kyron's gifts were always subpar. The treasures I cherished ended up as tools to shatter my illusions.

"What's wrong, Courtney? You're almost crying with joy over just a necklace?" he asked.

I sniffled and closed the box. "Yeah."

Kyron thought I was overjoyed over his little trick.

"By the way, you called me so many times. Is there something wrong?"

I turned my back as I murmured, "It's fine now." But inside, I felt a chill.

So he guessed that I was uncomfortable.

But what did it matter? He wouldn't worry about me; he would only be annoyed that I was disturbing his good time.

Like when he was with his Fiona on a cruise, watching the sun rise over the sea or proposing under fireworks.

He even felt that spending time to placate me was a waste. I stood up and headed to the bedroom.

Kyron called out to me, but his phone rang.

He didn't answer it. Instead, he turned away with a guilty expression.

"Something's come up. I need to go to the office."

He left the house without noticing my pale complexion or the numerous medicine bottles on the table.

As I heard the door close behind him, I immediately picked up my phone and called my lawyer.

"Start the preparation now. I want a divorce."