After I Realized I Didn't Love Him Anymore, My Ex-Husband Regretted

The doctor recommended I stay in the hospital for a week to monitor the baby's condition. If necessary, I'd need a C-section, and they advised having family by my side.

I chuckled bitterly. It seemed I no longer had a family.

I casually changed my husband's name to Eric Brown in my Twitter contacts.

When we married, I had left my family behind in a heated argument, moving to this city for love.

But after just two years of marriage, I found myself in this situation. How could I possibly face my parents now?

A whole week passed, and Eric finally remembered me.

"Where are you? When are you coming home?"

After coming so close to death, I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, feeling nothing.

I calmly replied, "At the hospital."

He immediately called me. "Is the baby okay? Should I come stay with you?"

"No need. I'm being discharged today."

"The hospital, huh? I'll come pick you up then."

I wanted to tell him not to bother, but he had already hung up.

I suddenly realized that in our relationship, I was always the passive one.

I was like a mindless machine, being tossed around by others.

It was only a ten-minute drive from the hospital to home, yet I waited for hours.

His phone was busy, and he wasn't responding to messages.

I waddled around with my big belly, handling all the discharge paperwork on my own.

The cleaner helped me out, warning me to be careful during the late stages of pregnancy. "It's easy to fall, don't climb stairs."

It had been so long since anyone had spoken to me kindly, I almost cried.

I called a Didi ride, and just as I got into the car, my phone buzzed.

It was Eric.

"On your way back, buy a durian. Get a Musang King, Jane wants one. She's never had durian before, so get her a good one."

Jane posted another update on Twitter: [Eric is amazing. We didn't leave the bed for three days.]

The thought was terrifying.

I should have known all along but still held on to a sliver of hope.

In his heart, I would never be the priority.

It wasn't the time to confront him yet, so I didn't enter the house right away. I stood at the door, calming myself.

Despite her serene name, Jane was wild in private.

I opened the door and saw Jane in a spaghetti-strap dress, writhing in Eric's lap.

She wasn't even afraid of me seeing them because whenever things escalated, I was the one who got scolded.

Seeing me return, she reluctantly got off him.

Eric noticed the bags in my hand and rushed over to help.

When he realized there was no durian, his face darkened.

"Didn't I tell you to get a durian? You're too cheap to even buy one."

He looked ready to explode.

I remembered how, in the early stages of pregnancy, I had terrible nausea and craved something sour.

I sent Eric out to get some plums or similar sour fruits.

Jane had made a snide remark, "I don't see other pregnant women acting as spoiled as you."

Eric had agreed, "Exactly, exactly. If you want something sour, drink some vinegar and don't waste our time."

Now I couldn't even muster the energy to argue. I snatched the bags and retreated to the guest room, which was also my bedroom.

Ever since I got pregnant, we had been sleeping in separate rooms.

He had a strong libido and was always on me, and I worried it would harm the baby, so I refused him.

The next day, Jane had taunted me again, "As a woman, if you can't even please your husband, what good are you?"

I hadn't expected my husband to share such intimate details with her. I confronted him, but he brushed it off.

He didn't think much of it. He said Jane was his elder and there was nothing she couldn't listen to.

Later, he started sleeping separately from me, annoyed by my nausea, my midnight bathroom trips, and my snoring.

Outside the room, Jane's voice rang out, "I wasn't that serious about the durian. I just mentioned it because I saw it on TV. Don't blame her."

I wondered if they didn't know how to walk or just didn't know where the fruit store was. I didn't care anymore.

I was just tired—tired of a life with no hope for the future.

"Eric, don't be mad. Let's do something fun," Jane cooed.

Moments later, I could hear the sound of their moans, mingling with the creaks of the old sofa.

Through the walls, I could faintly hear Eric's lustful voice, "Jane, you're so wild. Am I not enough for you anymore?"

Then he added, "I wonder what it's like to do it with a pregnant woman."

Terrified, I quickly scrambled up and locked the door.