Love and Betrayal in Ten Years of Marriage

Maybe it was the glare from the streetlights, but everything around me seemed a bit blurry.

I closed my eyes, trying to stop thinking, but the past came rushing back like a tidal wave.

After that, Eleanor and I became a couple.

To gain her family's approval, I gave up my dreams and enrolled in a teaching college.

I stubbornly refused any financial help from Eleanor. I supported myself through part-time jobs to prove I had no other intentions towards her.

Eleanor also left her luxurious life behind, enduring hardships with me in a cramped rental apartment.

When I looked back, those were probably our happiest days - free, busy, and full of hope.

And every morning, we woke up to the person we loved beside us...

"Hey dude, why are you crying? Did you get in a fight with your wife?" The driver kept glancing back, worried I might do something drastic.

"Just the wind."

I reached for the medicine box in my bag, only to find it empty.

I endured the pain all night and rushed to the hospital early the next morning.

While waiting for my turn, I saw Daniel helping Eleanor out of the gynecology department.

"Are you following me?" Eleanor's tone was harsh.

My gaze flicked over Eleanor's belly. "Congratulations. For the sake of your baby having a noble identity, you better sign those divorce papers soon."

Eleanor frowned, but Daniel spoke first. "You've got it wrong. Ella just got her period. Her stomach hurts. You never pay attention to her needs, so I have to take care of her."

Eleanor snapped, "Edward, don't go too far."

I couldn't be bothered to argue, and just then, the nurse called me in for my appointment.

As I was about to leave, Eleanor grabbed my hand.

"Psychiatric department? Edward, what kind of stunt are you pulling now?"

Daniel chuckled, "Ella, don't you get it? He's jealous because you care about me too much. If I'm not mistaken, he'll claim to have depression."

"First, you run away, and then you fake being sick, so what's next? Are you going to threaten suicide?"

Eleanor let go of my hand.

"You really picked up your mom's knack for making a scene."

Look at her, the person I shared a bed with for ten years.

The troubles and secrets I confided in her during our intimate moments now turned into daggers she used to stab at my heart.