I Was Abandoned, But He Regretted It

#Irish’s POV

That morning, the cold air stung my skin as I stepped out of the bedroom. But the chill in the air was nothing compared to the searing heat suddenly burning in my chest. Grace was standing in our living room, her smile bright as she adjusted Bobby’s tie—my husband’s tie.

Time seemed to stop. My eyes locked onto her skillful hands, her fingers brushing against Bobby’s chest with a tenderness that should have been reserved for me. Morning was far too early for a "friend" to drop by, especially for something so intimate.

“Oh, Irish, you’re awake!” Grace exclaimed with a sugary sweetness that made my stomach churn. Her smile was wide, as if nothing was amiss. “I just wanted to thank you for letting Bobby help me last night. If he hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep well.”

I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Bobby, without hesitation, explained, “I brought Grace here last night. You were already asleep, so I didn’t get the chance to tell you.”

My heart dropped. There wasn’t a trace of guilt in his voice, just a flat explanation, as if I was supposed to accept his unilateral decision.

“I’m only here until the AC in my apartment is fixed,” Grace added. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother.”

“Consider this your home too,” Bobby replied with a smile that should have been mine. He even tucked a strand of Grace’s hair behind her ear with a tenderness that made me want to scream.

I couldn’t bear to listen any longer. I felt the anger bubbling inside me, but I swallowed it down. I walked into the kitchen, trying to escape the scene that was tearing my heart apart. My hands busied themselves with breakfast ingredients, but my mind spiraled. Their laughter echoed from the dining room, as if I didn’t exist.

I slammed a pan harder than I intended, the loud clang drawing Bobby’s attention. He came over, wrapping his arms around me from behind, attempting to soothe me. His touch, which used to bring me comfort, now felt cold and filled with pretense.

“Let me cook. You sit down, sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to take the spatula from my hand.

I let it go without a word and walked out of the kitchen, leaving him to finish what I had started. My absence only gave Grace more room to get closer to Bobby. I heard her voice offering to help, but Bobby firmly refused, telling her to sit with me instead.

Grace sat across from me, a small smile on her face. “Irish, if you don’t like me being here, I can leave now.”

I didn’t even have a chance to respond before Bobby interjected, “Grace, don’t misunderstand. Irish isn’t mad at you; she’s just upset because... her dreams haven’t come true yet.”

I glared at him, shocked by his words.

Meanwhile, Grace put on a somber expression, pretending she cared. But I could see the hidden satisfaction behind her act.

To ease the tension, Bobby offered, “I’ll come home early tonight and take you shopping. You can buy whatever you want.” Bobby always thought money could fix everything, but he was wrong. I didn’t need expensive gifts or shopping trips. What I needed was his attention and loyalty—two things he no longer seemed capable of giving.

He seemed to have forgotten how I had accepted him when he was just an ordinary employee, earning a modest salary and living simply. Back then, he gave me his whole heart. His time and effort were devoted entirely to me.

Now, with his high-ranking position at the company, he had started to neglect his loyalty and treat me like a pet—one that only needed to be fed and housed.

“But Bobby,” Grace chimed in, “don’t we have an appointment with Dr. Frans today? I need to get my liver checked.”

I saw Bobby flinch, clearly remembering the appointment. “You’re right. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said to me. “Grace needs support. Her condition is quite serious.”

I swallowed hard, forcing down the pain stabbing my heart. “I understand,” I replied softly.

He smiled, relieved, and pulled out his phone to transfer money to my account. “Use this to treat yourself. Invite your friends, okay?”

I nodded without a word. As he stood and prepared to leave with Grace, I noticed how he no longer kissed my forehead before going—a small gesture that used to make me feel loved. Now, even that was gone.

After Bobby left, I called Uncle Jack, asking for permission not to come to the restaurant. “I have something to take care of,” I said briefly.

I went to the civil registry office with determined steps. When I arrived, I filled out the divorce application form. Each letter I wrote was a small step toward freedom.

The clerk at the counter looked at me sympathetically as I handed her the document. “Are you sure, ma’am?” she asked softly.

I nodded. “There’s nothing left to save.”

But my journey didn’t stop there. I continued to the immigration office to change my passport. The name on the form was no longer the old Irish. I chose a new name, a symbol of the new life I would build without Bobby.

“Two weeks from now, you will no longer be a citizen of this country, ma’am,” the clerk said as she handed me my new identity papers.