Divorced Three Years, Still Estranged

Everyone pointed their fingers at me, accusing me of being reckless, of nearly killing Daniel Hughes and that “innocent” girl.

I still remember the look in Daniel’s eyes—disgust, anger, disappointment. So complicated, yet cold enough to chill me to the bone.

On my knees, my voice trembled.

“I only wanted her to leave you… I never meant for it to end this way.”

Margaret Hughes ground her teeth in fury and slapped me several times across the face.

“If anything happens to Daniel, I’ll use my life to make sure you die a miserable death!”

Daniel just stood there, looking at me with no emotion in his voice.

“Sophia, thank you for making me realize just how important Emily is to me.”

“She’s just a young woman, only twenty-three, in the prime of her life, and now she’s disabled forever.”

“You are the cause of all this. You could have handled it better, but instead you chose the cruelest way.”

He gripped my chin hard.

“Atonement! Either you pay with a leg for Emily, or we get divorced. I’ll be her legs, take care of her for the rest of her life.”

All I ever wanted was to save my marriage, protect this family.

But in his eyes, there was only one truth—

I had harmed Emily, and my sin was unforgivable.

That moment, my heart froze completely.

I bit down so hard on my lip that blood seeped out before I finally forced the words out.

“Divorce.”

His fingers jolted, as if he hadn’t heard me right.

“What did you say?”

I looked at him, all emotion gone from my eyes.

“I said, we’re getting divorced.”

Daniel froze on the spot for a full thirty seconds before a mocking smile twisted his mouth.

“Fine. I was already sick of you anyway.”

That was the truth, wasn’t it?

I lowered my gaze, saying nothing more.

Because I knew—no matter what I said, I would never win against Emily.

In his eyes, I was always the one in the wrong.

I deleted every contact, booked the earliest flight out of Seattle, and vanished.

For months I lived in a daze, until I met the man who is now my husband. We soon got our marriage license.

And I finally picked up my old profession again, finding a fulfilling job at a well-known design firm.

Life became peaceful.

The name Daniel Hughes had long since faded from my memory.

I downed a glass of whiskey in one gulp.

My throat burned, my head began to swim.

“I thought you were allergic to alcohol. You never drank,” Linda asked curiously.

I shook my head. “It’s fine. I got over it.”

After the divorce, I had drowned myself in alcohol.

One time, an allergic reaction nearly killed me in the ER.

It was my current husband who dragged me back from death’s door.

Since then, the allergy somehow vanished.

Linda suddenly raised her glass with a smile and drained it.

“Blame me. I only posted the reunion notice in our Facebook Alumni Group. I should’ve messaged you directly too.”

She shook her empty glass.

“This one’s my apology. Everyone, drink up.”

She led the toast, and the atmosphere quickly grew warm and lively again.

Still, after some hesitation, she couldn’t hold back her curiosity.

“Daniel Hughes is such an outstanding man. After the divorce… you’ve never regretted it?”

“From the way he looks at you, if you just said the word, he’d take you back in a heartbeat.”

Before I could answer, a video call came through from the nanny at home.

“Ma’am, when are you coming back? The little one won’t stop crying for you. Nothing we do works.”

The camera turned, and there was my chubby one-year-old daughter.

The moment she saw me, she stopped crying, scrunching up her little face and calling out in her baby voice:

“Mommy.”