- 3.
During my hospital stay, I hired a nurse.
Henry and Molly were gallivanting around
town, Molly sending me pictures of their
adventures.
Beach trips, snorkeling, romantic dinners.
Kissing in every photo.
<
I felt nothing.
I was busy planning a biotech startup with my
friend, Carla Jennings.
For the past eight years, I’d been helping her
with product development in my spare time.
She’d been urging me to start a business with
her, but I’d always refused.
My friends said I’d wasted eight years on a
sham marriage.
But I had no regrets.
Back then, nothing mattered more than my
mother.
Now, my contract with Henry was over. I was
L
The day I was discharged, Henry called.
“When are you coming home? The house is a
mess.”
“Still in the hospital?”
I chuckled dryly.
“Don’t the maids do anything anymore?”
He sounded exasperated.
“You know I don’t like anyone touching my
things. And I need you to organize some files
from work.‘
“”
I glanced at the time, about to tell him I was
busy, when the nurse called me to settle my
bill.
L
Henry overheard and urged me to hurry home.
I ignored him, paid my bill, and hopped into
Carla’s car.
“Free at last?” Carla asked, grinning.
I smiled, a genuine smile this time.
“It’s over. I’m filing for divorce as soon as I
can.”
Carla was even more excited than I was.
“Let’s go sign that contract, then celebrate
with hot pot!”
I nodded enthusiastically.
As we discussed the contract detaile Wenny
As we discussed the contract details, Henry
called again.
I glanced at the screen, then flipped my
phone over, letting Carla continue.
She raised an eyebrow. “Really over him,
huh?”
Carla was the only one who knew I’d once
harbored feelings for Henry.
But those feelings had long since evaporated,
eroded by his constant cruelty.
I stared at my phone, a strange calmness
washing over me.
“Some people are just from different worlds.”
Carla nodded in agreement.
After signing the contract, we went to our favorite hot pot restaurant.
As I took the first bite of spicy beef, tears
welled up in my eyes.
Carla laughed, asking if it was that good.
I just smiled.
Since being with Henry, I hadn’t touched
anything with a strong smell.
He’d claimed it was unfitting for a Harrison.
There were a lot of things deemed
“unfitting.”
Laughing too loud in public, speaking my
mind…
For eight years, I’d been an emotionless
robot.
Now, I could taste freedom, and it felt
bittersweet.
I got home around ten. Henry was waiting in
the living room, his face like a thundercloud.
He’d called a dozen times.
“Where were you?”
I took off my shoes, washed my hands, and
replied calmly, “Dinner with a friend.”
He stepped closer, his face twisting in
disgust.
“Hot pot again? It reeks.”
I smiled. “Molly eats it. Does she reek?”
His expression darkened.
“You’re not Molly. She’s not a Harrison.”
I didn’t reply.
Not yet, anyway.
It was obvious how much Molly meant to him.
