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After He Let Me Catch a Fever, I Walked Away Novel Cover

After He Let Me Catch a Fever, I Walked Away

After five years of unwavering devotion, a wife faces the bitter reality of her husband's icy indifference. The final blow falls when he abandons her during a severe illness to help another woman, forcing her to survive a dangerous fever alone. Realizing her love will never be returned, she chooses to leave the marriage behind. As she starts a fresh life, her ex-husband is consumed by regret and begs for a second chance, but the scars he left are permanent.
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Chapter 2

Despite changing my clothes, my fever kept climbing, and by the time I wrapped up work, I was burning up.

The fever brought relentless cramps in my lower abdomen. A cold combined with menstrual pain left me feeling completely miserable. Forcing myself to get home, I collapsed on my bed and slipped into a deep sleep.

In a hazy, half-dream state, I thought I saw Otto come to my bedside, only to turn and leave. I wanted to call out to him, ask him to make me some honey tea. But I was in too much pain to make a sound.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I finally summoned a bit of energy. Despite my head feeling stuffed like it was filled with cotton and a persistent ache in my abdomen, I dragged myself to the bathroom. I paused at the door.

I didn't make a sound.

Otto's nonchalant voice drifted through the gap in the door. It sounded like he was on the phone with someone.

"Yeah, I did it on purpose. I wanted to teach her a lesson," he said, casually. "Otherwise, she takes everything for granted and expects me to handle it all. You know how exhausting that is for me?"

"In a city full of people, who else makes such a fuss?"

Because of the fever, my head throbbed relentlessly. It took me a moment to process his words, but when I did, each one felt like a stab to the heart.

I had always believed Otto was endlessly accommodating to me. It never occurred to me that he harbored such grievances.

Dazed and weak, I nearly stumbled. Holding onto the wall for support, the whole room seemed to spin around me. Through blurred, tear-filled eyes, I heard Otto let out a dismissive chuckle. He said indifferently, "If she's cold, let her be. Worst case, she'll catch a fever."

"Take some medicine, sleep it off, and she'll be fine."

His tone was so breezy, so unconcerned.

I clenched my teeth to keep from sobbing aloud. Devastated and bewildered, I realized my boyfriend had known all along that I would fall ill. But he wasn't worried—because this was part of his plan.

He deliberately let time drag on, watching indifferently as I got sick, just to teach me to be strong, to be independent, to stop relying on him for everything.

I couldn't understand why Otto would do such a thing. If he wanted to refuse my requests, he could have simply said no. I even offered to hire a delivery service to spare him the trouble.

But he agreed, only to use it as an opportunity to give me a "lesson."

I knew I lacked self-sufficiency. My parents spoiled me growing up; they never even let me wash a single dish. So in my first year after college, I was learning all the skills of living from scratch.

My parents were miles away, worried that I might be careless. But I always reassured them, "Don't worry, I have Otto. We'll take care of each other."

And so, they were at ease.

Otto was three years older than me and always seemed more composed. I had told my friends, my parents, even strangers I met by chance, that I had a wonderful boyfriend—smart and a great student.

I never imagined Otto would find me bothersome.

But he clearly had grown tired of me.

When did it start?

I tried to recall, but the more I thought about it, the more tears flowed uncontrollably from my eyes. Countless small incidents rushed back from the depths of my memory.

Perhaps it was the third time I forgot my house keys, and Otto happened to be on a business trip. Though I had called a locksmith and managed to get inside, when I told Otto about it, he seemed slightly annoyed.

"How can you forget every time? Who forgets their keys three times?"

Knowing I was at fault, I didn’t argue. Yet his blunt criticism stung. From then on, I left a spare key at the office.

Or maybe it was when my backpack zipper broke, and I was too busy studying to fix it. Until one day, my wallet went missing.

I cried as I worked to replace my cards but lamented the loss of the photo of us.

"That was a picture from when we first started dating. It's such a shame it's gone," I sighed to Otto.

Without lifting his head, he said, "Well, isn't that your fault for procrastinating? Remember, if something's broken, fix it promptly."

It was a bright, sunny afternoon. Otto and I walked down the street, one behind the other. Our shadows lay close together in the sun, but I felt our hearts were miles apart.

I didn’t understand why he was always criticizing me. Maybe I really wasn’t good enough. But I was trying, honestly.

I didn’t know, and couldn’t have known, that at that moment, my boyfriend was already muttering to himself...

“She’s so troublesome.”

“I’m going to teach her a lesson.”

“She can’t expect me to handle everything.”

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