Brenda’s Second Life

In my past life, Gabriel taught him to refer to me as “that woman”—always with the same contempt.

When I lay gravely ill, he never once visited. After I died, I’m sure he even thought my passing brought a curse.

A child carrying Gabriel’s blood was rotten from the root. In this life, I wanted no part of it.

“I want only myself.” I dropped the words and walked out of the shared office without a backward glance, leaving behind the man and woman who had disgusted me for a lifetime.

Back at the apartment in the old block, the place was, as ever, a mess.

Gabriel’s mother was holding the newborn Joseph, muttering curses about me under her breath—the usual complaints: that I was too delicate, that I acted like an empress just because I’d given birth.

I ignored her and went straight to the bedroom. Taking out my small dowry chest, I began to pack.

My belongings were few: some old clothes, a few books, and a pair of gold bracelets left to me by my mother.

Seeing me pack, Gabriel’s mother froze for a moment, then planted her hands on her hips and started yelling. “What do you think you’re doing? Running back to your parents to play the grand lady now that you’ve had a child? I’m telling you, no way! Once you married into this family, you became one of us. You belong here, in life and in death!”

I paid her no mind, calmly continuing to pack.

Just then, Gabriel and Sophia returned.

The moment Gabriel stepped inside and saw my packed chest, his anger flared again.

“Brenda, are you serious?!”

“Have the divorce papers drawn up as soon as possible. I don’t want the house, the savings, anything. And I won’t fight for the child either.”

I looked at him calmly, as if discussing something that had nothing to do with me.

My composure only infuriated him further.

“On what grounds?!” he roared. “You—with that stain on your name—who else would even want you? How will you survive with a child after the divorce? You’re gambling with your future, and the child’s!”

He was always like this, habitually putting me down to prop up his own sense of superiority.

“That’s no longer your concern.” I picked up the chest, ready to leave.

“You’re not going anywhere!” He stepped forward, blocking my path.

“Gabriel, don’t be angry. Brenda must just be confused right now.”

Sophia was still playing her part, pretending to mediate while shooting me meaningful looks—as if to say, Just apologize and make up.

I found it all utterly ridiculous.

“Move.” The word came out cold.

“I won’t!” Gabriel stubbornly blocked the doorway. “If you don’t make yourself clear today, you’re not walking out that door!”

“Fine, then I’ll make myself clear.” I looked at him, then at Sophia behind him.

I spoke each word slowly, deliberately. “Gabriel, ask yourself honestly: did you marry me because you loved me? No. You married me because someone like me—with my family’s history—was beneath you. Marrying me fed your ego. You could enjoy the comforts my family brought while still feeling justified in belittling me, in humiliating me, so you could play the righteous, pure one.”

I went on, “You gave me the cold shoulder while showering your ‘dear sister’ with affection, having it both ways. You thought I was stupid, a fool you could control at will. But Gabriel, I’m not a fool. I was just… tired.”

My words cut like a knife, slicing through his gentle facade to expose the petty, insecure man beneath.

His face flushed red, then paled, then turned ashen. Finally, he stared at me, his eyes blazing with the fury of being seen.

“You—you’re talking nonsense!” he retorted, his voice fierce but hollow.

“Whether it’s nonsense or not, you know the truth.” Holding the chest, I walked past him, still rooted in place, and headed for the door.

This time, he didn’t stop me.

I opened the door. The sunlight outside stung my eyes.

Turning back, I took one last look at this home I’d lived in for two years—this cage.

Gabriel’s mother stood holding the child, still cursing. Gabriel remained frozen, utterly lost. And Sophia watched me with a complex gaze—a mix of envy and triumph.

I smiled faintly.

Goodbye, Gabriel.

Goodbye, my foolish, pathetic former life.