The Man You Couldn’t Forget

A Marriage Drained Dry

Winston's wife had died young—buried in a mining collapse years ago. Their child had just turned one when tragedy struck.

Irene had run around the hospital with him, helping however she could. It was common for neighbors to help neighbors who were in need. However, no one expected that Winston would set his sights on Irene the moment his wife was out of the picture.

Ever since that day, everything regarding the child became Irene's responsibility. Winston would go running to her when they were nearly out of formula. He would plead with her to help him out when his kid was outgrowing his clothes.

He would come knocking on Irene's door when his child fell ill. What made it worse was that Irene never said no. Eventually, eighty percent of her monthly salary went straight to the two of them. It had gotten so bad that we were practically living in poverty.

We barely had any proper appliances, and that beat-up bicycle was something I had bought when we got married.

When I tried to talk to her about it, she called me cold-hearted. "You're both men. How can you not understand Winston? His wife died before the child was even weaned, and he nearly lost his own life, too. How is that child going to live without my support?"

That was the crux of the problem, wasn't it? Everyone here knew Winston had received a large compensation payout after his wife's death. Meanwhile, our household ran entirely on my salary.

I would have fought bitterly with Irene over this if this were in the past. But not anymore.

I packed my things. Then, I placed divorce agreement on the coffee table in the living room, waiting for Irene to come back.

She returned late, but I didn't question her like I used to.

The moment Irene walked in and saw me sitting on the sofa, she noticed the documents on the table. A flicker of unease crossed her face as she asked, "Keith, can we not fight anymore? I know my attitude was bad, but there's no need to divorce over something this small, right?"

I scoffed. "Something small? His kid is practically about to start calling you 'Mom,' and that's still small to you? This divorce is happening whether you like it or not. There's nothing left to discuss."

When she saw I wouldn't budge, Irene snapped, "Keith Pembroke, can you stop being so unreasonable? That child liking me just means I'm a good person. So what if he recognizes me as his godmother?"

"A good person?" I curled my lips into a cold smirk. "You really are everyone's sweetheart, aren't you? Tell me. Does the kid like you, or is it his father who's taken a liking to you?"

Irene's face darkened. "Keith, you're impossible! There's no explaining anything to a petty man like you!"

I smiled faintly. "Isn't this perfect then? I'm giving you the chance to be with someone like Winston. Back then, I went against my parents to marry you because I thought you'd treat me well. And now?

"Are you seriously going to expect me to watch you treat another man better every single day? Look around you. The place you're living in belongs to the government, and we only got it because of my job.

"The major appliances you see here were part of the wedding gift I gave you. I pay for everything we eat and drink. Even what you wear comes from my money. And your salary? That all went to buying toys and snacks for Winston's kid, to buying Winston suits and ties, to dressing him up!

"You didn't bring so much as a fruit basket when we visited my mother for Christmas. Yet, you had no problem buying new clothes and giving gifts to someone else's child!"

Now that I was finally saying everything I had bottled up for so long, I let out a long breath and continued calmly, "Irene, since you don't like me, there's no point dragging this out any longer. You can do whatever you want after the divorce. You can marry him if that's what you wish.

"You can even have his son call you 'Mom.' That way, at least all that money you spent on them won't have gone to waste."

I stood and headed back to the bedroom. "Irene, this divorce is happening."

She stood outside for a long time before finally rushing in after me. "Keith, can we not get divorced?"

I couldn't understand what she was trying to pull now. Her heart clearly belonged to Winston, so why was she so unwilling to let me go?

Still, none of that mattered now. I would be leaving the country in a week. Irene would end up with Winston sooner or later.

…

Early the next morning, I heard the sound of cooking coming from outside before I even opened my eyes.

I had never once seen her step into the kitchen for five years of our marriage, except for the time she eagerly stewed some soup for a sick Winston.

I ignored her, grabbed a basin of water, and went to wash up. When I finished, I picked up two eggs from the table, slipped them into my bag, and headed for the door.

"Have breakfast before you go." Irene's tone was unusually gentle.

Unfortunately, her attempts to appease me weren't going to work.

"Don't bother. We're practically divorced. We don't need to go through this farce of playing pretend. Oh, and don't forget to pay for your share of the groceries tonight. I paid for everything in this house—the pots, the food, the oil. If you want to eat, you can pay for it."

Irene had not spent a single cent on me despite having been married to me for five years. Honestly, I could confidently say that I might as well have been supporting her and her loverboy all by myself.