I Divorced Him After He was Diagnosed with Cancer

Because Fred couldn’t have kids.

He just couldn’t. But his pride wouldn’t let anyone know. Other than the two of us, no one had a clue.

Blossom shot me a look and said, “The solution is actually pretty simple. The real reason Desiree hasn’t gotten pregnant yet is because her parents died too early. There’s too much resentment lingering around them.”

She added, “I talked to someone. If you dig up her parents’ coffins and let them sit in the sun for two days, she’ll definitely be able to conceive.”

What absolute nonsense!

The thing I cherished most in this world was my parents, even though they were gone.

Blossom? She knew exactly what she was doing.

I snapped back, “This woman’s making things up. None of this has a scientific basis! Don’t believe a word she’s saying!”

But my in-laws? They were as desperate as it got.

And Blossom? She was playing right into their desperation.

If they bought into it, they’d actually go through with it.

And sure enough, my worst fear became reality.

After thinking it over for a moment, Marcia actually told Fred and Todd, my father-in-law, to dig up my parents’ graves!

Right then, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Blossom. A taunt.

[Yeah, I did it on purpose. What are you gonna do about it? If you won’t divorce Fred, then I’ll make him destroy the one thing you care about most.]

I couldn’t even respond. I didn’t have time. My husband and Todd were already on their way out.

I had to run to block the door.

My husband glared at me as he warned me, “Move.”

But I stood my ground. There was no way I’d let them do this!

And then Blossom’s son decided to chime in. “Uncle, how can you let a girl stop you? Isn’t that embarrassing?”

That was it. My husband snapped.

He shoved me so hard, I hit the floor.

Then his fists came down, again and again, like a storm.

He grabbed my hair, yanking me up just to slam my head against the ground.

As he hit me, he shouted, “Since when do you get a say in this family? Huh?! Let me tell you, I’m digging up your parents’ graves whether you like it or not!”

Blood dripped from my forehead, where an old wound had reopened. It mixed with my hair, sticky and warm.

When he finally stopped hitting me, he threw me back onto the floor like trash.

Then the kicking started.

No one stopped him. They all just stood there, watching.

Even Marcia had something to say.

“Careful with her belly, son. Don’t damage her uterus. How’s she supposed to have kids if you ruin it?”

Every inch of my body was screaming in pain. Blood filled my mouth and nose, the metallic taste choking me.

And yet, I laughed.

The more I hurt, the harder I laughed.

Even my husband’s relentless assault slowed to a halt as my strange laughter echoed through the room.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” he demanded.

I looked right at him, laughing louder now.

“I’m laughing at you,” I said, my voice steady, mocking. “Laughing because you can never have kids.”

Hearing my words, everyone’s expressions shifted.

My husband, who prided himself on his reputation, was especially stunned—especially since I had said it in front of his precious childhood sweetheart.

He was livid. He grabbed me by the arm and said, “You love your parents so much, don’t you? Fine. I’ll make you watch me dig up their graves myself. Hell, I’ll even throw their bones out to feed the stray dogs. And it’s all your fault, Desiree!”

My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor.

Still, he grabbed at my clothes, dragging me toward the door.

At that moment, I heard the sound of sirens.

I gasped for air, each breath feeling like a gulp of freedom.

I knew that letting him hit me hadn’t been in vain.

When the cops walked in, I thought they’d freak out.

But my mother-in-law merely cast them a calm glance.