He Regretted it After He Found Out I Didn't Love Him

I picked up my daughter from the neighbor's and brought her to the fruit shop with a thin blanket.

Angela looked worried, asking, "Mom, where's Dad going to stay tonight?"

I brushed her hair gently, placing her teddy bear in her arms. "He has somewhere to stay. Don't worry. Sleep now."

There was no extra bed in the shop, so I made do with a chair for the night.

Martin had asked me for money just days earlier, leaving me with little.

The previous house was definitely no longer habitable, but I didn't have enough to rent a place either.

Angela was still a child and she couldn't live here with me and suffer.

Memories flooded back of when Angela was three, and a debt collector threatened her, making her cry hysterically.

Martin knelt and begged until they let her go, and after they left, our house was in shambles.

That night, he kneeled until dawn, apologizing to me and our daughter, promising that he'd make things right and even give me a proper wedding once the debt was paid.

Back then, every coin was stretched.

Yet over the years, Martin would keep asking me for money.

He never thought about the situation that Angela and I would be in after giving the money to others to buy a house and renovate it.

...

When I woke up the next day, my waist and legs were sore and numb.

After a few moments, I managed to push through the discomfort and checked my phone, only to see a stream of messages. Oddly, the video I sent him had failed to deliver.

"We need a batch of wood urgently. Send me whatever money you have."

"I have something else to do. I'll send Grace to pick up four or five thousand, just to tide us over."

When I didn't respond, his tone turned hostile, "Gloria Jones! It's just a little water leaking—how long are you going to keep sulking?"

I looked at the sky outside and it was only five o'clock.

Normally, I'd already be at the shop by now, getting things ready and heading back by six-thirty to prepare breakfast and send Angela to school.

It was indeed a bit late now.

Seeing his early-morning messages full of complaints, I debated blocking him.

But he was still Angela's father, and we had a divorce to settle. There would still be things to work out.

Martin had once been a good person, but he had become unrecognizable to me.

I don't know if it's because we have a child that he didn't feel responsible for me.

Besides, even though finding a woman, he was not afraid of me running away, so he saw me as a cash machine that could be used to call and run.

The conflict between us was far from being explained by a leak.

I saved money to open a fruit shop, and he felt that I was starting to be out of control.

When I bought beautiful clothes and toys for Angela, he felt that I was hiding, not wanting to use the money to support him.

I knew nothing about his job, but he hired a young, beautiful, and understanding female assistant.

Once I turned cold and examined him, he covered his face in despair and said he's under a lot of pressure.

Martin always took our daughter as an excuse. After all, I am a feudal traditional woman and I hope my child can have a complete family.

But now, I finally realize that this is not possible. I cannot compromise for my child. This is not the life I want.

Even if I compromised, this would not be a normal home for Angela.

But just as I was about to go out, I saw Grace as soon as I opened the door.