When Our Love Began to Break in the Tenth Year

Two months ago, a torrential rain poured in the middle of the night.

Our son is autistic, I was by his side, softly coaxing him to sleep.

I had unbearable abdominal pain in the middle of the night, I called Travis more than a dozen times, and the one who picked up was Kit.

Kit informed me that Travis was in the shower and that I could contact him after dawn if it was important.

After that, when I called again, all I heard was the sound of the phone being turned off.

I was taken to the hospital, and after the miscarriage and curettage, the doctor told me that my constitution was weak, and after losing this child, I would never be able to get pregnant again.

But on Kit's social account updates, I saw pictures of them holding hands by the sea.

Looking at their cuddling figures, I knew in my heart that this marriage in name only should end.

Travis suddenly sank into the leather sofa in the living room, his face full of fatigue.

"Jasmine, there's no need. I just didn't make it back for your birthday, and you're using such a poor excuse to trick me."

He reached out for a lighter and lit a cigarette.

He still thought I was lying to him.

"This is the medical report, you can see for yourself."

I put the medical report and medical records from the hospital in front of him, and he looked at me with a sneer,

"Are you putting on such a full act just to compete with Kit?"

I looked at the man I'd shared a bed with for ten years, and all I saw in his eyes was mockery towards me.

"Think what you want, I just want to get divorced as soon as possible."

Travis flicked through the medical report on the table, and in annoyance, threw it on the floor.

"Kit has been with me for so long, she only made one mistake, do you have to take it so seriously?"

I looked at the scattered medical reports on the floor, Travis thought all of these were fake.

I calmly looked at him, then towards our son's room,

"Shh, keep it down, you'll wake the kid."

Travis glared at me, stubbed out his cigarette forcefully in the ashtray, grabbed his coat and left.

I watched his retreating figure, but found that everything in front of me was gradually blurring.

Was Travis still the same person he used to be?

Travis and I met in college, he was not a good student then.

His father had passed away, and his mother raised him alone.

I ran into Travis being extorted by thugs during a friend's birthday.

I called the police, but by the time they arrived, he was already bruised from the beating.

I took him to the hospital, paid for his medical expenses, and even helped him ask for leave from school.

Afterwards, he said he wanted to repay me, and added my contact information.