When Love Fades Away Like Fireworks

My wife had been away on a business trip for half a year, working hard to negotiate a big project for the company. Excited to see her again, I happily made my way to the airport, eager to welcome her home. But when she appeared, something I had not expected shattered my joy. Her belly was bulging.

She was pregnant and that child in her belly was obviously not mine.

The news spread quickly among my colleagues. They pointed at me, whispering behind my back, mocking me for being a cuckold.

My dignity, my love, everything I had held dear for five years of marriage, was stomped into the ground like it was nothing.

At that moment, I knew our five-year marriage was over.

***

Earlier that day, I had learned that my beloved wife, Eve Pearson, was returning from her business trip. In my excitement, I went to the florist and ordered a large bouquet of beautiful red roses and rushed to the airport.

The project she had successfully negotiated for our company had been incredibly lucrative, so much so that many high-level executives were also there waiting for her arrival to greet her.

I stood in the terminal, holding the flowers until my legs went numb. Then, I finally saw her in a clean, elegant windbreaker that swayed with her every step.

My heart swelled with joy as I waved eagerly, shouting her name across the busy terminal.

However, the moment our eyes met, my smile froze in an instant.

I had not seen her in six months, yet her sharp, confident expression was just exactly the same. It was not until I looked down that I noticed her belly was noticeably bulging.

The executives beside me fell into an awkward silence, their gazes shifting from her to me.

"Dear, you..."

Before I could finish, Juan Harrison, our company’s president, emerged from behind Eve.

He casually wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His tone sounded affectionate and considerate. "Are you still feeling nauseous?" he asked softly.

"I bought you some fresh fruits."

Fresh fruits? For nausea? My mind reeled upon hearing their conversation.

I looked at Eve, my disbelief clear in my eyes.

"What’s going on?" I asked.

Juan glanced at me sympathetically with a helpless shrug. "Damian, you can see for yourself. Eve is more than five months pregnant and she’s been feeling unwell lately, so..."

Eve had been on a business trip for half a year, but it was clear she was already five months pregnant when she returned.

In other words, without any hesitation, Juan announced to everyone that my wife had cheated on me and was now carrying someone else’s child!

Immediately afterward, his pleasant, authoritative voice echoed in my ears as he spoke again, “Why are you all just standing around? Let’s congratulate our new vice president, Mrs. Eve Pearson! The profit from this project is equal to six months’ worth of the company's performance!”

Immediately, the rest of the executives rushed forward to congratulate her, pushing past me in their enthusiasm.

In the joyful chaos, I was jostled aside. The roses I had so carefully picked for her fell from my hands, only to be trampled into the ground, turning them into a muddy mess.

I stood there, stunned, as everyone surrounded Eve, offering their support and congratulations.

I had no idea who said it first, but someone suggested, "Let’s hold a celebration banquet for our new vice president tonight!"

The idea was met with excited agreement by our surroundings, but to my surprise, Eve declined.

"I’m sorry, everyone," she said with a calm smile, "I’m really a bit tired after such a long trip. Besides... the baby in my belly needs rest, too. I’m heading home first."

Hearing her words, a faint glimmer of hope sparked in my chest.

Perhaps she had not forgotten that today was our fifth wedding anniversary after all.

Unfortunately, my hope was crushed in the next moment.

She walked up to me, paused for a brief second and said, "Damian, you can go home without me. When I’m feeling better, we’ll have a proper talk about our situation."

Then, without another glance, she turned and got into Juan’s sleek Maybach, driving away without a word.

A dull pain settled deep in my chest as I stood stiffly there, watching them disappear into the distance.

My eyes dropped to the crushed rose petals on the ground, scattered and ruined, much like my dignity. The words ‘new vice president, Eve Pearson’ echoed in my mind.

It seemed like Eve had been promoted again.

From the first day she joined the company, she climbed the ladder so much faster than I ever did.

First as a team leader, then to a deputy director and then to a director.

And now she was a vice president.

And as her career soared, I could feel the distance between us growing wider and wider, until today, when she returned... five months pregnant.

I could not help but remember the day when Eve discovered she was pregnant for the first time a year ago.

Her reaction was far from joy. She had grabbed my collar tightly and her eyes were blazing with anger as she shouted, “Damian, did you purposely mess up the birth control?! Don’t think for a second that you can tie me down with a child!”

I knew she despised the idea of being a stay-at-home wife and mother. I had always followed her wishes, making sure to be careful about contraception, but when she got pregnant, I tried to explain it was not intentional.

I even told her that maybe it was fate. A special gift from God, perhaps.

At that time, my mother was gravely ill and her final wish was to see her grandchild before she passed away.

I begged Eve to keep the baby, pleading with her to consider my mother’s last wish. No matter how much I asked, Eve would not hear it. Without a second thought, she took an abortion pill and cruelly ended the pregnancy.

After my mother found out about the situation, she broke down in tears and angrily scolded me for being useless, for not even being able to protect her grandchild.

That very night, she passed away.

The weight of this loss hit me harder than anything I had ever experienced and I fell into a deep depression for a long time.

Perhaps, in her own way, Eve felt guilty about it, too.

Not long after, she approached me to explain herself for the first time. She told me that her work had been overwhelming, the pressure to climb the corporate ladder had consumed her and the timing of the pregnancy had been all wrong.

"Damian, just wait a year or two," she said. "We’ll have another child when the time is right."

In the five years we had been married, Eve had poured all her energy into her career and I had done my best to keep things steady at home, making sure she would not have to worry about household matters.

I handled everything. Every little detail in our home was arranged by me and I made sure it was to her liking.

She adored shiny, beautiful things, so I had a custom-made crystal chandelier flown in from Italy, one that sparkled just the way she liked.

My beloved wife did not care for takeout, so I taught myself how to cook, watching endless short videos until I could prepare meals for her that she could enjoy.

I made it a point to surprise her on every special occasion, such as our anniversaries, Valentine’s Day and her birthday, hoping it would make her happy.

Nevertheless, every effort I made was met with cold indifference. Her eyes were filled with disgust when she stared at everything I had prepared.

"Damian, I don’t care about celebrating these meaningless days. You don’t need to do any of this."

She had told me early on that she did not like sharing her personal life on social media. In all our years together, I had never once appeared in her Instagram stories or posts.

Yet tonight, something unexpected happened. I saw her post on Instagram, saying [It’s the 2000th day I’ve known you. Thank you for making me the luckiest woman on Earth.]

Accompanying the message was a picture of two glasses of red wine clinking together. But what caught my attention most was the Rolex Submariner visible on the other wrist in the photo.

I recognized that watch immediately. I had seen it before in her online shopping history.

I had believed it was a gift she was planning to give me for our fifth wedding anniversary.

But I was wrong, terribly wrong.

The realization hit me like a punch to the chest, squeezing my heart so tightly that I could barely breathe.

It was not that Eve did not like posting her personal life in her Instagram. It was just that she did not want to post anything related to me.