Birth Control Pills from My Husband Made Me Ran To An Old Love

Clipped inside was a blurry picture of a black hole.

[Another collapsed star was observed today, Karen. How have you been? I miss you.]

[After I retire, so I don’t turn into a sad black hole, I’ll definitely come back home to watch over you.]

[It’s just that it’s still too far away. My heart breaks thinking about you.]

William grew up in a foreign country, always mixing in that dry, foreign sense of humor. Over the past five years, the files he sent me have piled up into a mountain, filling my entire inbox. The pictures he took of me, the words of love he wrote—I backed them up separately, afraid that one day they might disappear. But I never replied. For so long, it had been his one-man show.

Because unlike Ferry, I knew that I had married a man, and I had my own sense of propriety. I always thought that, given time, William would eventually let go of me. But he never did.

I sat there quietly, scrolling through the letters from the past. Memories flooded my heart, and for a second, two little voices argued inside me. Then my phone beeped. Ferry had transferred ten million dollars to my account with a message.

[This is my fault. Consider this my compensation.]

But no amount of money could erase my hatred. And at that moment, I finally realized—my life was mine to live. Not for him, not for my family. For myself.

A rush of excitement coursed through me as I typed out my reply to William’s email.

[It’s not far. Wait for me for a month, and I’ll come to you.]

After that fight with Ferry, we silently agreed to sleep in separate rooms. I stayed in the master bedroom; he moved into the second bedroom. But every night when I got up, I would see the door to the second bedroom wide open—empty.

He was probably at Chindy’s house. But I no longer cared where he spent his nights. I packed up my belongings little by little, sending them overseas where William would receive them. Each box I shipped off felt like a piece of myself leaving behind the weight of my past.

One evening, Ferry came home with a gift—a phoenix crown. The same one I had stared at through the display window for so long.

For the first time, he brought out his prized bottle of red wine, setting up a dinner table just for me.

“Karen, Grandpa’s birthday is coming up. Let’s not make a scene for now, okay?”

Once again, it was about maintaining the appearance of our families' unity. We were used to putting on a show for these big occasions anyway.

I agreed. “Okay.”

Grandpa’s birthday was always a grand affair. Ever since he turned seventy, it had become a major event. This year, we had booked the best restaurant in the city, filling the entire venue with friends, family and business associates.

Before we stepped inside, Ferry extended his hand toward me. Out of habit, I reached for it. But this time, he didn’t just hold it—he interlocked our fingers. I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, pressing against my knuckles. His peaceful gaze lingered on me before he smiled in satisfaction and led me through the restaurant doors.

And then, I saw her. Chindy was there, bustling around, assisting Ferry’s family with the preparations. The smile immediately vanished from his face, replaced by a flicker of unease. During the gathering, the same old topic was brought up again.

My mother and mother-in-law took turns prodding us.

“Are you two lying to us? You’ve been married for five years, and you’ve been trying for a baby for three. How come there’s still no news?”

“You both need to get checked.”

“A check-up is a must. We’ll arrange one for you tomorrow. I’d like to see what’s really going on.”

My smile froze. My mind replayed everything Ferry had done. My vision blurred, my throat burned. Lowering my head, I gently wiped away a single tear with my pinky finger.