After Losing My Child, I Decided To Divorce

I had a headache all night long.

The intense pain finally faded away when the dawn broke. I looked out at the sky outside the window listlessly, suddenly unable to remember why I was there.

I only felt that the sky outside was as blue as the ceiling in the baby room.

My in-laws were packing things into bags, my parents were standing at the door waiting, and Bruce was smoking outside the room. Seeing that I was not showing up, he impatiently opened the door and urged me in a very strong tone, "What are you still doing inside? Don't you know what day it is today?"

What day?

Where is my phone?

I couldn't remember what day it was today. A huge panic suddenly set off in my heart and I started frantically looking for my phone.

Going out with my diary was too noticeable, so I wrote down the notes on my phone.

The unexpected reaction completely angered Bruce. He rushed to the bedside, grabbed the phone I couldn't find, and slammed it hard on the ground. His eyes were bloodshot, and he gritted his teeth and asked. "Daisy, do you have a heart? Do you love this child so little that you don't even remember his memorial day?"

It turned out that today was the child's memorial day, the day he completely left me.

But I forgot.

The commotion attracted others as well.

Knowing what was happening, Emily lost her usual calmness and rushed up to slap me hard, hysterically shouting, "Bitch! Heartless! How did my son marry such an ungrateful person like you? Why didn't you die? My poor grandson. My poor grandson."

"Get out! Go die! You don't deserve to see the child! Get out now!"

Jake hugged and comforted Emily, but his eyes were full of disgust.

My mother, in order to show that she stood with Emily, rushed up and smashed a cup on my head.

"You bastard! Get out now! You don't deserve to be a mother! I'll pretend I never gave birth to you!"

My head was buzzing as blood ran down the smashed wound and dripped onto the remains of my mobile phone on the floor.

I stared blankly at the broken phone, tears streaming down my red eyes.

I would never forget it again.

How could I forget about the child?