Divorce, Baby, and a Whole New Me

Perhaps seeing me suddenly agree to the divorce was a shock, so he hesitated for a moment, then handed me some extra money.

Of course, I didn’t refuse. After being a housewife for so many years, I deserved it.

The weather in Aster City in September was cold and dreary, with a chilling wind that made my face numb.

That morning, after we finalized the divorce at the City Hall, he drove us home, picked up our sleepy daughter from her little bed, and quickly left.

My mother-in-law, holding a baby bottle, followed behind him. She paused as she passed me, glanced at the dazed look on my face, seemed like she wanted to say something, but in the end, just sighed and left.

The sharp sound of the door slamming snapped me out of my stupor. I suddenly remembered something and rushed into the bedroom, stumbling as I looked at the empty crib, my mind going blank. I couldn’t remember what had just happened.

All that was running through my head was one thought: "Where’s my child?"

I lifted the sheets, even searched through the wardrobe, but there was nothing. I was frantic, shouting as I searched: "Where’s my child? Where did they go?"

I pulled at my hair in a frenzy, slapped my own face repeatedly until it was red and swollen. The sharp, burning pain cleared the fog in my mind for a moment. "Call the police! Call them now! They’ll help me find her!"

I grabbed my phone like it was a lifeline, crawling toward the living room.

I frantically searched again, eyes unfocused, my face smeared with a mix of tears and snot, my mind mechanically scanning left and right as I muttered to myself:

"Phone... phone..."

"Where’s my phone?"

Suddenly, I turned and saw my bag lying by the door where I had left it earlier. A surge of relief washed over me, and I staggered over to grab it. When I opened it, I found a small, dark red booklet. "What’s this? How did it end up in my bag?"

I pulled it out in confusion and held it up to the light—Divorce Certificate.

The three golden letters instantly caught my eye, as if triggering a switch, and everything that had just happened came rushing back in an instant.

It felt like all the energy drained out of me at once. I couldn’t stand, and collapsed to the floor.

Lying there, staring at the ceiling, everything from the past flashed before my eyes like a revolving lantern—my secret crush in high school, the unexpected reunion after graduation, getting pregnant and married, his reunion with his first love, me being kicked out. Even though these events were all part of my life, they felt so unreal...

I hadn’t eaten all day. I was too exhausted to care anymore. I lay on the floor and drifted into a heavy sleep.

Maybe the floor was too cold, or maybe I had been too worn out, but after that day, I fell seriously ill. I had a high fever that wouldn’t subside, my whole body felt weak, and the worst part was, I couldn’t even get up to drink water.

The fever made everything blurry, and the world around me seemed dark and dim. I couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. I didn’t know how long I lay there in a haze, but a phone call from my daughter finally brought some clarity. She told me she missed me and asked when I would come to pick her up.

Although she had been placed with Ethan, I still had visitation rights.

I told her I would come to see her in a few days and take her out to play. She happily agreed and told me an aunt had given her a beautiful new dress that she couldn’t wait to show me.

I smiled through my tears and said, “Okay.”

Before I agreed to the divorce with Ethan, I spent a long time preparing my daughter. When I first told her that Mommy and Daddy might be separating, she resisted fiercely, shaking her head like a rattle, waving her tiny hands and saying, "No, no!"

Too much of an explanation would have been beyond her understanding, so I started telling her that this way, she would get four presents every birthday.

I held up her little hand and counted the fingers for her, "Is four more than two?"

She nodded, and I continued, "When you go to school, you'll stay at Daddy’s house, and when school’s out, Mommy will come pick you up. Other kids only have one home, but Clara will have two!"

"Is two bigger than one?" I asked again.

She nodded once more, looking at me with a puzzled clarity. My heart clenched, but I kept smiling, telling her how great it would be for Mommy and Daddy to live apart.

Slowly, over time, she started to accept the idea.

I was bedridden for half a month before I recovered. I had no appetite, barely ate, and lost quite a bit of weight, which was an unintended bonus.

Since having the baby, my weight had hovered around 140 pounds. At 5'5", that was considered overweight.

In the first few years, I had tried to lose weight, but with the constant duties of being at home with the baby, my only social activity was pushing the stroller to the market or park.

Over time, I became numb to it all, not caring much about weight or appearance.

After I recovered, I went to my mother-in-law’s house to pick up my daughter. She hadn’t been apart from me since she was born, and although I had prepared myself mentally for this moment, it still tore at my heart. I took her to the playhouse for the day. When I dropped her off that evening, I didn’t go inside. I watched her go in from the doorway, then turned and left.

Ethan’s car was parked in the yard.