Chapter 6
My dad angrily hung up, muttering, “I still can’t believe you ever thought being with Samuel was a good idea. What were you thinking?”
Margaret shot him a look. “Can’t you see she’s going through enough? At least she survived this time. If anything had happened, I would’ve made sure Samuel faced consequences he couldn’t escape.”
They bickered back and forth, while I looked at my son, lost in thought.
My dad interrupted my reverie, saying, “Once your postpartum recovery is over, file for divorce. A man like that isn’t worth it.”
“It’s already done.”
My parents stared at me, stunned.
“It was finalized last month,” I said.
Samuel had pushed for it. I remembered the day I ran into him and Lila Whitmore during one of my prenatal checkups. He was holding her belly as if it were the most precious thing in the world, explaining the ultrasound results and mentioning their baby girl.
Meanwhile, I was standing in line arguing with an impatient woman trying to cut in front of me. Samuel brushed past without a glance. Lila, though, had seen me.
<
That evening, Lila sent me messages: screenshots of her chats with Samuel.
Turns out, since the alumni gathering, they’d been in constant contact. On nights Samuel was supposedly on shift, he would video call her.
In those messages, he described me as a persistent nuisance. He claimed he didn’t love me but felt obligated to stay. He even admitted, “Sometimes I think about divorce, but she’s so obsessed, she’d never agree.”
“She’s not like you, not in any way. I regret not waiting for you.”
“If I divorce her, do we stand a chance?”
“Do you really still care about me?”
“Don’t worry. Even though this baby isn’t mine, I’ll be there for her. I won’t miss a single checkup.”
Lila claimed she wasn’t trying to ruin my marriage; she just wanted her child to have a father figure, even if only as a godfather. She told me not to be jealous, as it would only stress Samuel out.
When I showed Samuel the messages, he snapped.
“If you can’t accept my friendship with Lila or the idea of helping an innocent child, then we should just divorce.”
“Fine!”
He didn’t expect me to agree, even while heavily pregnant. The clerk at the marriage bureau hesitated at first, but seeing my resolve, she processed the paperwork and reminded us of the mandatory cooling–off period before the divorce was official.
Samuel had smirked. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you–don’t come crawling back.”
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t second–guessed myself in the days that followed. I worried about raising a child alone, feared my parents would side with Samuel, and felt some lingering attachment after all those years of chasing him. But when I remembered that my child and I almost died because of him, any last shred of affection evaporated.
“There are only two days left before the cooling–off period ends. I’ll finish the process then,” I told my parents.
My mom held my hand, her eyes full of sympathy.
On the day the divorce was finalized, Alex and my friends showed up with armfuls of confetti cannons and flowers. It looked like a wedding celebration at the city hall.
Samuel appeared, holding Lila’s baby and leading her by the hand, wearing an air of victory.
“Enough with the theatrics. We’re not getting back together. I’m here to marry Lila,” he announced, looking smug. “Move aside; we’re on a
schedule.”
Camille raised a megaphone, calling out, “Clear the way, everyone! Make room for the grand entrance of the cheater and his mistress! Bad luck if they touch you, so step aside!”
Alex unfurled a banner that read: “Congratulations to my friend for ditching the old man and moving on!”
