He Can Cry a River and I Still Won't Budge

So, this was what Sydney called “returning to family.” The irony was laughable.

Well, good for them—they truly deserved each other.

It was around 10 PM that night when Sydney came home, carrying Kya in his arms.

Kya cast a fleeting glance at me before burying her face against Sydney’s chest, her voice trembling with feigned vulnerability. “Sydney, I was so scared... I really thought something terrible would happen if you hadn’t come in time.”

With that, she burst into tears, clutching Sydney tightly as though the world had wronged her.

Sydney patted her back, his tone soft and reassuring. “Don’t worry, I’m here now. You’re safe.”

“Sydney,” Kya whimpered, tilting her head up to look at him. “Can you stay with me tonight? I’m so shaken and I don’t think I can sleep alone.”

Then, she turned her gaze to me, her lips trembling with mock sincerity. “Florence, you wouldn’t mind, would you?”

I kept a stoic expression, munching on my potato chips without bothering to answer.

In Sydney’s eyes, my silence was yet another instance of my “immaturity” or “unreasonableness.” His face darkened as he tried to justify his actions.

“The hotel wasn’t safe,” he explained. “Someone broke into Kya’s room. If I had been even a little later... I don’t want to think about what could have happened. She’ll stay here for a few days until I find her a secure place.”

Every word was a glaring red flag.

I stepped closer, letting the remaining chips spill from the bag onto both of them. Sydney’s face turned beet red with anger, but I couldn’t hold back a mocking laugh.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” I sneered. “Someone broke into her hotel room and your solution isn’t to call the police but to bring her here? Seriously?”

I crossed my arms, giving them a pointed look. “You expect me to believe there’s not a single safe hotel in this entire city? Or is it that you two find it more thrilling to flaunt your affair in front of me?”

Kya’s eyes welled up with tears and her voice wavered dramatically. “Sydney, just take me away. It’s clear your wife doesn’t want me here.”

She turned to me with a pitiful expression. “I’m sorry for causing trouble, Florence. I only asked Sydney for help because I thought you didn’t mind—since you’ve been so... understanding lately.”

She clung to his neck and whispered, “Let’s go to a hotel. I have a new nightgown I wanted to show you anyway.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Sydney glared at me. “This is my house. She doesn’t get to make the rules.” 

Kya's lips curled up with delight and she turned her head to see my reaction. 

“If she don’t like it, she can leave,” Sydney added. 

When the words dropped, Kya went to kiss him. Sydney returned her kiss, carried her into our bedroom and the bile rose in my throat. I barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting violently.

I was done. This man disgusted me.

***

The next day, I went to the hospital and terminated the pregnancy. I spent two months recovering at my best friend’s place, during which Sydney didn’t call me—not once.

Once I felt physically and emotionally ready, I began making arrangements to end it all. I hired a lawyer and had the divorce papers drafted.

When I finally returned to the house to confront Sydney, I found that the locks had been changed. Calling him was futile; he wouldn’t pick up. Left with no choice, I contacted a locksmith to open the door.

As the locksmith worked on the door, my phone finally rang. I picked it up, expecting Sydney, but instead, a woman's voice greeted me with smug satisfaction.

“Are you looking for Sydney?” she asked, her tone dripping with confidence. “He’s with me at the clinic right now. I’ve been feeling nauseous lately, so he brought me to check. The elderly folks here keep saying I might be pregnant. They think Sydney and I are such a perfect couple—handsome, beautiful and just imagine the adorable babies we’ll have.”

She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing with mock sympathy. “But I get it; you’ve been with him since the beginning, helped him build everything from scratch. Out of respect, he can’t just abandon you, right?”

The locksmith finally clicked the door open. Without another word, I ended the call, cutting off whatever nonsense she had left to spew.

I stepped inside, only to be met with a startling sight. In just two months, everything had been completely transformed into something I couldn’t even recognize.