Wife Brings Her First Love Home For A Private Meeting

A soft beeping sound pulled me out of the blackness and when I opened my eyes, I found a doctor standing over me, just about to remove my IV. His face was stern, a look I had grown used to over the years.

"Oh, you're awake," he said, pausing. His expression didn't soften. "You know your blood doesn't clot well, yet you waited so long to come to the hospital. You're not taking your health seriously at all."

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry and I could only manage a slight nod.

"In the next room, there's a young man with just a mild cold," the doctor continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And his girlfriend is freaking out, insisting on a full body checkup by a specialist." He shook his head in disbelief.

I clenched my jaw, the bitter taste of humiliation rising in my throat. Even though my heart had turned to ashes long ago, hearing about Jessica's frantic care for Michael still cut through me like a dull blade. The chill of it snaked through my body, leaving me numb.

After I paid my medical bills, I headed for the exit, only to run straight into Jessica. She was helping Michael walk, supporting him like he was an invalid. My chest tightened at the sight and my grip on the bag of medicine tightened as well. Seeing the pills in my hand, Jessica's face briefly registered surprise, her eyes flickering with hesitation, though it was gone in an instant.

Michael, ever the actor, began to cough weakly. "Cough… Sorry, Aaron. It's all my fault… cough… for suddenly getting sick and making Jessica late to take care of you…"

Before he could finish his pitiful performance, Jessica cut him off, her voice full of concern. She was all but ignoring me now. "Don't speak," she said tenderly. "The doctor told you to rest and not to waste your breath on something unimportant."

Michael stood behind her, his thin smile revealing the smug satisfaction he couldn't quite hide. His eyes briefly met mine and there was a spark of triumph there.

"You just cut your finger. Is it really that serious?" Jessica finally addressed me, her gaze shifting to the bag of medicine in my hand as if she suspected I was faking my injury just to get her attention. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the suspicion evident.

I swallowed my anger, the cold weight of disappointment settling deeper into my chest. Without a word, I walked past them, out of the hospital, my steps slow and steady, the echoes of their voices following me.

As I stood by the curb, waiting for a taxi, Michael's voice rang out behind me again, dripping with playful affection. "Sorry, babe, we can't kiss today. I don't want to give you my cold."

Jessica giggled, her voice lighter, full of warmth. "I don't care!" she said. "I want to stick with you. It's just a cold."

I heard the sound of their lips smacking, but I didn't turn around. Instead, I reached for my left hand and slid the wedding ring off my finger, feeling its cold metal one last time before I threw it into the trash bin beside me. The clink of it hitting the bottom felt final. Irrevocable. My marriage to Jessica was over and any part of me that still clung to hope died right there on the street.

When I got home, the apartment felt emptier than usual, like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I didn't waste any time. I began packing my belongings, stuffing clothes into my suitcase, determined to leave this chapter of my life behind.

As I opened the drawer to retrieve my documents, a leather-bound photo album caught my eye. I had never seen it before. Curious, I pulled it out and flipped it open. The cover was engraved with the initials "J & M," and underneath, in Jessica's familiar handwriting, were the words: [Love Diary.]

A lump formed in my throat as I rifled through the pages, my hands trembling slightly. Papers fell out, scattering across the floor. I bent down to pick them up and froze when I saw what they were—plane tickets. Hong Kong to the United States. My frown deepened and I opened the album to reveal a timeline of Jessica's secret life with Michael.

Page after page, 30 in total, filled with photos of their trips to the U.S., their time together in different locations, smiling, always hand in hand. In every single photo, Jessica looked happier than I had ever seen her. That radiant smile she never once showed me was there in every picture.

The tickets dated back seven years. Seven years of lies, of betrayal. I laughed bitterly as the realization hit me like a freight train.

I remembered our honeymoon, how excited I had been to take Jessica to Paris, her dream destination. But she threw my plans back in my face, accusing me of caring only about fun, telling me to go alone if I wanted. She didn't want to waste her time on leisure, she had said. But now I understood—it wasn't that she didn't want to go. She just didn't want to go with me.

I pitied myself. The blind fool I had been. But not anymore. I wasn't going to fall into that trap again. I packed the last of my things, the two jackets that had hung forgotten in the closet and sent my resignation email to her company. It felt like severing the final tie that bound me to this empty, one-sided love.

After finishing everything, I fell onto the bed, exhaustion dragging me down. My eyes closed as I sank into a restless sleep.

In the haze of half-dreams, I felt something soft brushing against my face. It felt foreign, unwelcome and I jolted awake to find Jessica sitting beside me, her hand tracing down my chest. My heart tightened and I pulled away from her touch.

She paused, her expression unreadable, before she leaned in closer again, her voice turning soft, almost pleading. "Aaron, remember when you used to make that soup for me when I got sick? Could you make some tomorrow night and bring it to the office?"

I stared at her, my heart cold and distant. She was oblivious to the change in me, too focused on her request, on the soup. "Got it," I muttered, my fingers already moving to type a message on my phone.

Jessica's phone buzzed and she glanced at it, a smile spreading across her lips. My eyes hardened and I couldn't hold back anymore.

"Tomorrow is your mother's seventh day," I said, my voice calm but firm. "Aren't you going to attend the ceremony?"

Her hand froze on her phone and her expression darkened. Without warning, she grabbed a cup from the bedside table and hurled it at me. "All I did was ask for some soup and you wish my mom to die? Are you even human?"

I didn't move, letting the shattered pieces of the cup scatter across the floor. Jessica wasn't done. "I misjudged you, Aaron! My mother treated you so well and you're nothing but an ungrateful wolf! She should never have pitied you in the first place!"

With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I sat there for a long moment, my heart aching—not for her but for Emily. Her daughter didn't even know she had passed away.

Sighing, I got up and picked up the broken pieces of the cup, tossing them into the trash. Once I was done, I sent the legal documents I had been preparing to Jonathan, my old college friend who was now a top divorce lawyer.

Back when Jessica and I got married, she had dismissed the wedding, saying it was a waste of time and money. I had invited only a few close friends for a small dinner and Jessica hadn't shown up. None of her friends had come either. That night, I found her at a bar, drunk and crying out Michael's name.

Jonathan had patted me on the shoulder then, saying, "If you ever need anything, just let me know." I hadn't understood the weight of his words until now. Ten years later, he had been right.

Jonathan quickly acknowledged receiving the documents with a reassuring emoji. Just as I was about to put my phone down, another message popped up—details of our class reunion.

[Jonathan: Are you coming? Mr. Sterling will be there too.]

I hesitated. Roderick Sterling had been Emily's best friend and she had prepared a gift for him before she passed away. I never had the chance to give it to him.

After a moment's thought, I replied: [I'll be there.]

Since I was leaving this life behind, it was time to tie up all the loose ends.