Divorcing My Husband After the New Year

David shook me awake.

I groaned weakly, letting out a faint, trembling whisper. “David, my stomach hurts—so much. Please... take me to the hospital.”

I let my body go limp, collapsing back onto the bed, playing the part of someone too weak to move.

David’s composure cracked instantly. He scrambled to throw on his coat and bolted toward the door.

“Mom! Stop whatever you’re doing!” he yelled. “Elaine’s bleeding—she needs to go to the hospital!”

Moments later, my mother-in-law barged into the room. She yanked the covers back just enough to take a look, her sharp eyes darting over the blood. Her expression flickered—hesitation, then something darker—before she turned and walked out without a word.

Downstairs, I heard the rumble of the car engine as David backed out of the driveway. Relief swept over me. If I could just make it to the city, I’d finally have the chance to bring up the divorce.

But then the car stopped.

My heart sank as David appeared in the doorway, his glare icy and cutting. His expression was no longer panicked—it was predatory.

“Keep pretending, Elaine. Why stop now?” he sneered. “Do you really hate staying in my house that much? What exactly are you trying to pull here?”

He took a step closer, his voice dripping with venom. “If my mom hadn’t told me that the ‘blood’ on the bed was chicken blood, I might have actually fallen for your act. Why, Elaine? Do you hate my family so much that you’d stoop to this?”

I forced myself to stay calm, even as my mind raced. “I just wanted to go to the hospital for a checkup,” I said softly, my voice steady. “I told you yesterday, but you didn’t listen. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry, husband. I won’t do it again.”

His expression softened slightly, and his tone shifted into something that almost sounded like tenderness. “That’s all this was about? I told you, it’s rare for us to come back for the New Year. Stay a few more days. If you really want to leave, you can drive yourself back.”

My heart leaped—I couldn’t believe my luck. This was exactly the opportunity I needed.

But before I could make my move, another problem appeared: his mother.

“David, you’re spoiling her too much!” she snapped, her voice sharp and grating. “It’s the New Year, and she’s rushing to leave? Maybe she has someone waiting for her back in the city!”

“Mom, she’s not feeling well,” David said, trying to defend me.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “She’s faking it. When I was pregnant with you, I fell off a ridge and I was fine!”

David hesitated, caught between his mother’s words and my plea.

I stepped in, forcing my tone to remain calm. “I just want to go for a checkup. If everything’s fine, I’ll come back right away. It’s the New Year—I want to spend it properly with the family.”

“If you want a proper New Year,” she snapped, “then stay here. There’s nothing wrong with you—I know because I have experience. Now stop standing there and go wash the dishes! There’s a pile from yesterday, and I need a break. What kind of daughter-in-law doesn’t help out in her in-laws’ home? Move it!”

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to grab the nearest shoe and slap that smug look off her face.

David glanced at me and said, “Go on, help Mom out. She’s been working hard.”

I stared at him, my mouth slightly open in disbelief.

'This is the man I married?' I thought. 'How could I have been so stupid?'

But I couldn’t lose my cool—not yet.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” I said, my voice steady. “But after that, can I go to the hospital? This is our first child, and I’m really worried. David, please help me explain to Mom. I’ll come right back—I promise.”

David nodded. “Alright.”

As I climbed out of bed, I pretended to stumble, falling into him just long enough to swipe the car keys from his pocket.

'Wash the dishes? Not a chance.'

Moments later, I was in the car, gripping the steering wheel as I navigated the winding mountain roads. My knuckles were white, and I didn’t dare glance in the rearview mirror. I didn’t want to see that house again.

I called my mom, my voice shaking as I told her everything and asked her to schedule the abortion.

Barely ten minutes later, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from David: [Did you take my car? Stop messing around and come back. The mountain roads are slippery.]

'His car?'

The audacity. The registration was in my name, not his.

When I didn’t reply, my phone started ringing.

“Elaine,” David growled when I picked up, his voice low and threatening. “What do you think you’re doing? Leaving without saying a word? Do you even see me as your husband anymore?”