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After Ten Years Mistreated Our Love, We Started Over Again Novel Cover

After Ten Years Mistreated Our Love, We Started Over Again

On his birthday, a husband discovers a social media post of his wife looking like a soulmate next to her ex-boyfriend. After he leaves a well-wishing comment, his wife quickly deletes the photo and calls to dismiss his concerns. When he asks if she even remembers what day it is, she angrily accuses him of being petty. Realizing she has forgotten his birthday once again, he blows out his solitary candles and hangs up, filled only with regret for the years he wasted loving her.
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Chapter 1

On my birthday night, my wife posted a picture on her Instagram with her ex-boyfriend.

In the photo, the two stood shoulders to shoulders. The way they gazed at each other with the love in their eyes made them look like soulmates destined for each other.

Her ex-boyfriend was on the same wavelength as her. He also posted the same picture and added a caption, "Through countless trials, you're still by my side".

I quietly liked her post and commented, "I wish both of you happiness."

Not long after, my wife deleted the Instagram post and called me via video chat. She explained that she just wanted to keep a memory and asked me not to overthink this.

I chuckled bitterly and said, "I'm not overthinking." Then silently I lit the candle on the birthday cake on table. "I just curious, do you remember what day it is today?"

My wife's voice turned sharp as she mocked me mercilessly, "What game are you playing now? It's just a photo. Do you have so little tolerance?"

Once again, she had forgotten my birthday. So, I blew out the candles on the cake in front of me and ended the call. 

There was a time when I loved her with every ounce of my being. Now, all I could feel was regret.

——

When Gemma Bronson arrived home, it was already one o'clock late at night.

Before that, she had just posted on her Instagram "That year, I kissed his face and I truly believed it could last forever."

Underneath, she attached another photo, this time her ex-boyfriend who sitting in a car, was waving goodbye to the person taking the picture. His smile carried a hint of mockery as if he knew I’d see it.

It was clear he did it on purpose.

"Why are you still awake?" asked Gemma. She was surprised to see me sitting alone on the couch, watching TV in the dark. Yet, it was just a simple surprised, nothing more and without waiting for my answer, she turned around and headed for the bathroom.

Last time, when her ex-boyfriend called her late at night and said he could not sleep, Gemma became so worried that she ended up staying awake and chatting with him until three in the morning.

However, I, who had been her husband of seven years, only deserved a simple sentence of acknowledgment.

She tossed her clothes carelessly on the floor as she entered the bathroom and the sound of running water followed soon after.

Out of habit, I picked up her clothes, threw them in the washing machine and fetched her pajamas from the closet, leaving them by the bathroom door.

Since her ectopic pregnancy years ago, I would have gone out of my way to care for her and tended every detail of her needs. 

Yet, for some reason I did not know, the more thoughtful I was, the further away she drifted. It was just like the other day. When the rain started pouring hard, I weathered the rain to her office to give him an umbrella, only to see her give it to her ex-boyfriend without hesitation.

A short while later, Gemma emerged from the bathroom. She glanced at the pajamas I had chosen for her and frowned. Picking them up, she asked, "Why this one?"

"Which one do you want to wear?" I replied as I stood up.

"Today’s my ovulation day. You’ve always been particular about this before."

She gave me a look, it was heavy with insinuation. Before I could respond, she put on the pajamas and walked to the bedroom.

As the bedroom door closed behind her, I let out a bitter laugh. It seemed she did not care about my thoughts, not my feelings.

However, for her ex-boyfriend, she would drop everything to comfort him. 

Seven years of marriage and still no child.

We’d been to the doctor countless times and every time, they said there was no major issue. We just need to relax and let things happen naturally.

I had wanted a child so desperately. That desire had driven me to care for her obsessively, even memorizing her cycles better than she did. Whenever her ovulation period came around, I would always prepare that one specific set of pajamas. It was our unspoken ritual, a signal we both understood.

However, this time, I did not get those special pajamas for her. Yet she did not even realize that. I stayed silent for a long time before finally returning to the bedroom.

When I slid into bed and wrapped my arm around her, she shrugged me off impatiently. "I’m really tired. Can you not bother me?"

In the past, I would’ve coaxed her and worn down her resistance until she finally agreed. However, it was different this time. I just got up in silence and headed to the guest room.

She called out just as I reached the door. "I’m really tired today. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow."

She rarely said something like that. However, I was just too tired, emotionally and mentally.

"There is no need," I said then closed the door behind me and lay down in the guest room, unable to fall asleep.

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