Goodbye to a Dirty Husband

I slammed the door with a loud “bang” as I left, but I didn’t go far. Instead, I stood outside holding my daughter, listening to the sounds from inside.

My mother-in-law couldn’t stop cursing at me, while Charlotte was softly comforting her.

I pushed the door open with force and the three of them looked at me, bursting into laughter.

“See? Not even five minutes and she’s already back,” Ethan said smugly.

I took out the divorce papers and threw them in his face, while shouting, “I don’t want a filthy thing like you anymore. Go fool around with whoever you like – one day, you’ll die because of it!”

Behind me, Ethan, looked like a rat with its tail stepped on, turned red and lunged forward, was ready to hit me.

As he reached the door, I slammed it shut hard, catching his left hand and leaving it bright red.

Part 2

Ethan has always been hating children. Since our daughter was born, he has never once given her a smile.

When he found out I was pregnant and would have a baby girl, he pressured me, subtly and not-so-subtly, to get an abortion.

The day our daughter was born, he was off jumping with Charlotte. I didn’t see him once during my entire recovery period.

After our daughter was born, he couldn’t stand her crying or the scent of milk in the house, so he moved to stay at his workplace.

As she grew, he found her affection unbearable and never treated her with the warmth you’d expect from a father.

I loved Ethan deeply and kept convincing myself that he was still young, still just a boy. I’d brought a daughter into his life too suddenly and maybe he just needed time to adjust.

So, whenever he was home, I made sure our daughter stayed out of his way, doing my best to keep her from bothering him.

When our daughter was two, my mother-in-law, who had been absent until then, suddenly decided to help take care of her. Without asking me, Ethan brought her over and insisted I give her our main bedroom.

But rather than helping with my daughter, my mother-in-law ignored her completely and even used the money I gave her for baby supplies to support Charlotte instead.

Several times, I came home to find my daughter starving and crying alone in the house, while my “helpful” mother-in-law strolled leisurely from the apartment complex across the street.

I eventually followed her and discovered she had been spending her days caring for Charlotte, who had just had a baby and needed postnatal care.

To make matters worse, my husband, who supposedly hated children, was frequently at Charlotte’s place, happily cradling her baby.

It was only then that I began to suspect Ethan might be having an affair.

One night, I confronted my mother-in-law and Ethan right outside Charlotte’s apartment, holding my daughter.

Neither of them showed a shred of guilt; instead, they looked impatient.

My mother-in-law held my hand warmly and said with a heavy tone, “Emma, Charlotte is the daughter of your father’s friend. Her husband had an accident and isn’t around anymore. I just come by sometimes to help her.”

Meanwhile, Ethan was expertly changing Charlotte’s son’s diaper, handling the baby with gentle care as if he were afraid to hurt him.

It made me think back to the night our daughter was sick when I’d begged him to stay with us.

That night, when I asked him to pass me a clean diaper, he flew into a rage, saying, “What kind of man touches things like that? They’re filthy and they’ll bring me bad luck!”

But now, here he was, delicately wiping Charlotte’s son without a care in the world about his “luck.”