I'm Done Playing Your Cheating Game

Mom sat down on the edge of my bed with the baby in her arms, her eyes full of aching tenderness.

"Hailey, sweetheart, don't keep things bottled up inside. Talk to me about it. You'll feel better."

My throat tightened.

For all these years, Mom had watched me tangled up with Clifford.

She never said a word about it, but I knew how much it hurt her to see me like that.

I reached over and held her hand gently.

"Mom, I don't want to stay in Kingsport anymore."

"Once I'm through my postpartum recovery, let's go to Southaven together. Let's leave this place."

A flicker of relief and joy sparked in her eyes, and she nodded hard.

Then a familiar voice came from the doorway.

"Leave? Sweetheart, where are you planning to go?"

Clifford strode straight over to us.

Mom didn't bother hiding her displeasure. She let out a sharp huff and carried the baby out of the room.

Clifford didn't care in the slightest. He sat down and gently stroked my hair.

"Sweetheart, are you really angry with me today?"

"You know how it is. I'm just so insecure. I have to push you away, over and over, before I can be sure you really love me."

The corner of my mouth twitched.

"Clifford, aren't you tired of that excuse yet?"

"Being angry doesn't mean anything to me anymore."

Ten years. Clifford had cheated on me more times than I could count, with all kinds of women lying in his arms.

I cried, I fought, I kept repeating how much I cared, how I would never leave him no matter what happened.

I'd believed that ten years of steady, unwavering devotion could move him.

Now I could see it clearly. All I'd ever moved was myself.

My tone was flat and hard. Clifford blinked, caught off guard, then held out a document.

"Sweetheart, whether you believe me or not, the ones I love most are still you and the baby."

"This is how sincere I am."

He'd drawn up a gift settlement contract, voluntarily handing over every asset in his name to me and our ten-day-old child.

A wave of exhaustion washed over me.

Every time he cheated, Clifford would apologize in that low, groveling voice, coaxing me back this same way.

As if every crack in a relationship could simply be smoothed over with money.

The postpartum nurse stepped forward and politely reminded Clifford that I needed to rest.

He got to his feet, reluctant to go.

"Sweetheart, I'll come see you again tomorrow after work."

That night, I booked Mom's plane ticket and wired her a large sum of money, so she could go ahead to Southaven and get settled in first.

Then I found a lawyer to draft the divorce settlement papers.

The next evening, Janet walked into the postpartum recovery center together with Clifford.

Clifford's hands were full of designer gift bags.

Janet carried a bouquet of flowers in her arms, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey, Clifford's wife, Mr. Sanchez spent the whole afternoon shopping with me. Every little thing, out came the credit card."

"So to thank him, I came along to visit you. Aren't you happy to see me?"

Clifford laughed at her playful teasing and casually peeled off an orange segment, popping it into her mouth.

"That's enough. Watch your mouth in front of my wife."

I spoke coldly.

"Did you come here just to show off?"

Janet thrust the flowers toward my face, wearing a pitiful expression.

"You've got me all wrong. I only wanted to come see you and the baby."

"I picked this bouquet out myself. I hope you like it."

A thick, heavy floral scent rolled toward me, tangled with the smell of green leaves.

The next instant I sneezed hard, my eyes swelling red almost at once, hives breaking out all over my skin.

Only then did I see clearly that the bouquet was almost entirely lilies.

I shoved Janet away hard without thinking.

"Get away from me!"

Janet, caught unprepared, dropped to the floor, and the rims of her eyes reddened in an instant.