She Called Me Crazy,After Stealing My Child

After she hung up, she didn't bother with the wound on her hand. She just grabbed her car keys and rushed for the door.

At the entryway, she stopped and turned to look at me, her eyes dark and unreadable.

Her voice was heavy with disappointment. "You never used to be like this, Roland."

Never used to be like what?

Offering her my whole heart on a platter, only to let her shred me to pieces?

I'd cared too much. I couldn't bear to let go of ten years together.

And at the time, she'd been pregnant.

So I swallowed the pain and chose to forgive her.

She promised to keep her distance.

And how did that turn out?

The scar on my hand was proof enough of how stupid I'd been.

I ran my thumb along that scar. The old wound felt like it was splitting open again, oozing, the pain so sharp I couldn't breathe.

A sudden slam shattered my thoughts.

Ida had walked out and let the door crash shut behind her.

I knew where she was going. Back to Humphrey.

I stared at the closed door and let a faint smile pull at the corner of my mouth.

"Goodbye, Ida."

Half an hour later, Humphrey Sawyer posted a social media story visible only to me.

"She said I'm the only one who cares about her. She told me to never leave her."

The photo showed the back of Ida's head buried in his chest, their fingers laced tightly together.

Just minutes ago, Ida had told me I could trust her.

But what she meant by "trust" was probably trusting that whatever she had with Humphrey was a pure "friendship."

Trusting that she'd skipped my follow-up appointments one after another for Wyatt Sawyer's trivial problems out of so-called "loyalty" to a good friend.

Trusting that two people could spend an entire night naked in the same bed and call it nothing more than "catching up."

Before long, Humphrey deleted the post, just like he had every other time.

As if what I'd seen was just a hallucination conjured by paranoia.

Then he sent me a message.

"Hey, brother-in-law, Ida was in a really bad mood tonight. She only came to have a few drinks with me. Don't overthink it."

"It's not worth letting an outsider like me cause problems between you two."

Don't overthink it.

I stared at those words and let out a cold laugh.

I still remembered the time I'd dragged myself out of bed with a burning fever, clutching screenshots of Humphrey's posts, and confronted Ida. She'd given me the exact same explanation.

"Humphrey and I grew up together. He went abroad after high school and stayed overseas for years. Now that he's finally back, I can't spend some time with an old friend?"

"Roland, you're just cooped up at home recovering with nothing to do. That's why you keep overthinking."

When she noticed my fever-flushed face growing paler by the second, she seemed to realize she'd gone too far.

She quickly pulled me into her arms and pressed her forehead against mine.

"Roland, if not for anything else, do it for our baby. Trust me. Stop overthinking, okay?"

She wiped my tears away gently, her voice soft and helpless.

"Stop crying, Roland. Fine. I promise I'll keep my distance from him."

When my tears only fell harder, Ida deleted Humphrey's contact right in front of me.

She even changed all her passwords to my birthday.

Ten years together. Seven years of marriage. And our baby was almost due.

Back then, I truly couldn't let go.

So I gritted my teeth, forgave her, and chose to believe her one more time.

And then what happened?

Less than a month later.

She'd gone into early labor. She'd just been told the baby had died inside her. She needed to stay in the hospital to recover more than anything.

But all it took was one text from Humphrey saying "my stomach hurts," and she walked out without a second thought.