My Love for You Has Faded

I was struck by a car and left bleeding profusely. Asher, the man who once knelt before my parents, vowing to protect me forever—didn’t even glance my way. He was too busy fastening the seatbelt for his childhood sweetheart, his eyes full of affection.

“Little dummy, if you bump your head again, don’t come crying to me,” he said with a playful smile.

A passerby called an ambulance for me, and that was the only reason my bleeding finally stopped.

A week later, that same childhood friend, Camilla, strutted up to me, holding a bold, seductive nightgown. She dangled it in front of me with a smug grin.

“Avery, I told him this nightgown would look best on you, but Asher insisted on giving it to me. Do you want it?”

I looked at her calmly and spat, “No, I don’t.”

In fact, I no longer wanted anything from Asher—my husband of six years.

That night, as I felt the emptiness of my abdomen, I packed my bags and went to the beach for a half-month vacation. During those days, Asher’s calls came in like a storm.

“Where did you go? Weren’t we supposed to go to the prenatal appointment yesterday?”

——

His frustrated voice echoed through the phone.

I took another bite of ice cream, saying nothing. The sound must have registered because he sighed, his tone changing.

“Avery, are you eating ice cream again? The doctor said no cold food while you’re pregnant.”

I gave a bitter laugh and took another big bite. “There’s no baby anymore.”

Two weeks ago, when that accident happened, I clutched my abdomen, pleading with Asher to take me to the hospital. But he didn’t even look at me. He was seated a short distance away in his car, eyes only for Camilla, his beloved childhood friend. He gently buckled her in, his expression filled with tenderness and flirtation.

Meanwhile, I lay in a pool of blood, feeling the life inside me slowly slipping away.

I spent seven days in the hospital after that, while Camilla filled her social media with updates the entire time.

[Today, my childhood sweetheart took me skiing! I can’t ski, so he taught me so patiently—who else would understand?]

[Today, my childhood sweetheart and I climbed a mountain. The kiss at the summit—who else knows what it feels like?]

[My childhood sweetheart said I’m his one and only baby!]

They reveled in their carefree happiness, leaving his wife and unborn child far behind.

So, when I told Asher that our child was gone, he didn’t believe me, and only scoffed.

“Don’t be so dramatic. I just forgot about the prenatal appointment yesterday. It’s not that big of a deal. I'm just too busy and forgetful these past few days. Don't worry. I’ll take a day off tomorrow to go with you.”

“Where are you now? I’ll come get you.”

I ignored him and hung up. He called several more times, so I switched off my phone.

When I finally returned from the beach, the first thing I saw outside the airport was Asher’s car parked by the roadside. He rolled down the window, his gaze indifferent as it settled on me.

“So you still know when to come back, Avery,” he sarcastically spat. Clenching his jaw, he added, “You’re pregnant; you shouldn’t be wandering around like this. My mother’s right—you should stay home.”

He frowned, his eyes falling to my belly. I wore a loose, flowing dress, which hid everything from his gaze. I got in the car, put on my headphones, and sat in the backseat.

After a while, the car still hadn’t started, Asher was staring back at me with a slight furrow in his brow.

"Why are you sitting in the back?"

I hadn’t quite heard him, so I pulled out one earpod and asked, "What did you say?"

Asher's expression was unreadable in the backlight. "You always used to sit in the front seat."

I lowered my head, letting out a soft laugh as memories surfaced. Like most girls, I had once believed that the front passenger seat was the wife’s exclusive place. But that illusion shattered the day I found a pair of someone else’s thong under that very seat. Since then, just thinking about the front seat made me feel sick.

I thought he’d just asked in passing, but he pressed for an answer.

I smiled faintly and said, "Nothing. I just realized I was too naive before."

Asher didn't respond and midway through the drive, he got hungry and stopped at the restaurant we both loved.

"I’ll have the Crispy Crab Cake. What about you? Do you still want Lime Butter Shrimp?"

I nodded, continuing to scroll through my phone. He tried starting a conversation a few times, but seeing my lack of interest, he eventually gave up.

When the food was ready, Asher brought them over himself.

“Avery, I remember you don’t like cilantro, so I made sure to pick it all out for you.”

Perhaps he thought he could bridge the distance with a plate of food, his tone now gentle and considerate.

But I simply stared at the plate in front of me, completely devoid of cilantro, and chuckled.

In the six years of our marriage, I’d always eaten Lime Butter Shrimp with extra green onions and cilantro. The one who couldn’t stand cilantro was Camilla.

Ignoring him, I got up and quietly asked the owner, "Could you please add some cilantro?"

Asher froze mid-bite, realizing something, and his face shifted slightly.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I guess I’ve been so busy lately that it completely slipped my mind. How could I forget you like cilantro!”

I looked at his sloppy acting with mild amusement and let it pass without comment.

After we finished eating, we passed the intersection where my accident had occurred. Even though it had been over two weeks, thinking about it made my chest ache.

After six painstaking years of trying, I’d finally conceived—only for the life I carried to end in that crash. It had taken my love and marriage with it.

Taking a deep breath, I sent a quick message to a lawyer friend, [Help me draft a divorce agreement. I’ll treat you to a meal soon.]

Suddenly, the car jolted forward as Asher pulled the handbrake. "We’re home."

He got out to help me with my luggage, while I continued to type on my phone, making my way upstairs.

As I opened the door, what should have been an empty home was filled with the sound of light footsteps.

“Asher, you’re back?” Camilla trotted over, wearing my nightgown and two rabbit-ear clips in her hair. Her smile froze when she saw me at the door.

“...Avery.”

Seeing her innocent-looking face, a wave of anger surged in my chest.

Before I could say anything, Asher hurried to explain. "Honey, Camilla’s just staying here for a few days."

This wasn’t the first time. We’d argued more than once in the past because of her presence in our lives. But now that I was set on divorcing him, I actually felt a strange calm.

Forcing a smile, I moved to go past her and head to my room—until the sight before me stopped me cold.

All my belongings had been thrown out, strewn in a heap by the door. My clothes and cosmetics lay scattered like trash, and my designer handbag, which I had saved three months’ salary to buy, was tossed against the wall, scratched deeply by something sharp.