After an Avalanche, We Divorced

He's probably forgotten why I was so set on marrying him, on having a kid.

Back when we were fresh out of college, Mike was trying to get his startup off the ground. Money was tight, and the stress gave him a stomach ulcer. I ended up singing in a bar at night to pay his hospital bills. One stormy evening, after dropping dinner off at the hospital, I rushed to work and slipped on the slick streets.

That night, I miscarried our first child.

I lost the baby before I even knew I was carrying it.

I had a loving family once, but it all went up in flames. After the fire, no relatives wanted to take in a "useless" burden like me. By the time I got to the orphanage, being older and a girl didn't help my chances of getting adopted. I spent every holiday there, surrounded by noise yet utterly alone. All I could do was dream about a future with a loving husband and adorable kids—maybe then the holidays would feel different.

But that accident seemed to push my dream even further away.

The doctors warned that my body wasn't well-suited for pregnancy and the accident had done serious damage. Trying to conceive again would be even tougher. In pursuit of that dream, I underwent countless treatments and saw numerous specialists.

Mike knew all about the sacrifices I'd made, but now, he was using my deepest desire as leverage to make me yield.

"Mike, I don't need that anymore."

A sneer flickered across his face.

"Don't need it? Lynn, cut the act. I know what you're after."

He always thought my "acting" was award-worthy.

To look after him, I had passed up major roles for quick-pay gigs - commercials, community theater, you name it.

Being a bit player meant no stunt doubles, no extra care. If a scene required danger, I was the one who faced it, always ending up with bruises or worse. Once, I even fractured a bone, but I kept it from Mike. I didn't want to worry him, nor did I want his pity.

Whenever he noticed, I'd laugh it off, claiming it was just makeup for a new role.

I figured, a little hardship didn't matter when we were together.

He bought every word, even marveled at how "real" the makeup looked. Thinking back, he probably never cared whether I was actually hurt or not.

During those tough days, he needed something or someone to lean on—whether it was a plant, a dog, or a cat. Anything that could talk back and share the burden was a plus. That someone turned out to be me.

Being a sharp businessman, he knew how to exploit vulnerabilities. As his closest confidant, he knew exactly what I longed for and how to manipulate me.

But now, I didn't need his manipulations. I gently touched my belly, feeling the new life within. From now on, it would be just us, our little family.

I was about to counter Mike's accusations when suddenly, the door to the stairwell burst open.

It was Jessa.

Jessa didn't seem surprised to see me. With a polite smile, she extended her hand, "Hey, you must be Lynn, right? Mike said you'd help with the trial? Thanks a bunch for that!"

I looked away, giving her the cold shoulder.

"Lynn! Jessa's talking to you. What's with the attitude?" Mike's voice was sharp, his face clouded with displeasure.

"Sorry, I'm just not great with new faces," I shot back sarcastically. "Not everyone gets my favor. That's earned, not given."

"Mike, does this mean Lynn doesn't want to help with the trial?" Jessa looked up at Mike, her voice laced with worry. "Maybe we should drop it. Didn't the doctors say the meds might cause dizziness, nausea, or even severe bleeding? It'd be rough on Lynn if she's not up for it. Let's not force her."

Jessa's complexion was ghostly, and Mike instinctively drew her close, scolding me, "Lynn, can't you just be reasonable for once? Jessa's condition can't wait. She's the one who's sick; can't you just cut her some slack?"

He was livid. In the old days, I'd have apologized first and then tried to cheer him up.

But now, all I wanted was to leave before they could push me further.

I tried to get past them to push the stairwell door open, but Mike stepped in front of me.

He grabbed my arm and pushed me against the door. "Help Jessa with the trial, or I swear you'll regret it!"

He thought I'd sacrifice my dignity for whatever scraps he was throwing my way.

I was ready to tell him off for dreaming so big, but just then, Brown showed up with the meds.

"Mr. Miller, the medication's here."