Divorcing My Absent Husband

POV: Hannah

I was in bed, the sheets cool against my skin, but Ellie's cries cut through the silence like a knife. Her little body was burning hot, her skin flushed, the gas that had kept her fussy all night now turning into something worse.

I sat up, my lower back protesting from all the rocking the night before, grabbed the thermometer from the nightstand, and checked her. 103.7. The number hit me hard, my heart sinking.

I picked her up, wrapping her in a blanket, the fabric soft but her weight familiar and heavy. My phone was in my pocket, the house dark except for the hallway light.

I rushed to the car, the night air crisp, my steps quick as I drove to the hospital, the engine humming.

In the ER waiting room, the chairs were plastic and uncomfortable, the floor cold under my feet. I sat down, Ellie in my arms, her little legs kicking weakly, her breath coming in short gasps.

My phone was out, I dialed Ryan's number three times in a row, each time it went through to Madison's voice.

"Hannah? Ryan is in a meeting right now, he can't take calls."

The same words each time, her tone polite but firm, no emotion.

The first call: "Hannah? Ryan is in a meeting right now, he can't take calls."

Second: same.

Third: same.

The words repeated, my frustration rising, my grip on Ellie tightening, the desperation making my throat tight.

An hour later, my phone rang, Ryan's name showing.

I answered, my voice low.

"If the doctor says she’s stable, do you really need me there?"

His voice was calm, almost bored, like he was still in the meeting.

The words hit me, the last bit of the filter crumbling.

I took a deep breath, my voice steady and cold, "No."

Then, I hung up, the click loud in the quiet waiting room, and immediately blocked his number.

The screen went dark, the marriage felt like it was over, the filter gone.

I stood there, the waiting room feeling smaller, the beeping of the machines in the next room a reminder of the stakes.

The glass door to the parking lot was heavy, I pushed it with my shoulder, but it didn't move, the cold night air seeping in, my arms tired from holding Ellie.

I struggled, the sweat from the fever mixing with my own, my back aching.

Then, a hand reached in. Caleb, a single dad I had spoken to earlier in the waiting room, had tired eyes but steady hands.

"Need a hand with that?"

He held the door open for me, no pity in his eyes, just practical help.

He handed me a paper towel, "Here, take this for her."

I took it, my fingers brushing the soft paper, and after the nurse gave me the medicine, I waited for the morning.

In the morning, I took Ellie home, the medicine in my bag, her fever still there but the medicine helping to bring it down a bit.

I walked into the living room, the familiar space, the sofa in the corner, Ryan on it, his jacket tossed aside, his phone in his hand, but he looked up when I entered.

He set the phone down, his face dark with anger, his posture stiff.

"Why the hell did you block my number? We need to talk about this, Hannah. You can't just do this to me after everything."

I walked past him without a word, my eyes forward, and pulled the lawyer draft from my bag.

I placed it on the coffee table in front of him, the paper sliding a little.

The draft was clear: "I require that the joint assets be frozen immediately as per our legal agreement."

The letter sat there, Ryan's hand reaching for it, the tension in the room thick, the power shifting back to me as the assets were now at risk of being frozen.