The Regret of a Cheating Husband

Silva

ove to the cemetery. I needed to talk to Mom and Dad, to Grandma. It had been too

shed tears. My throat tightened, and the words caught, a knot of

uldn't come. How could I burden them, even in death, with such pain? "Anderson... he hurt me, Mom. Really badly," I

der of life's fragility. The decision solidified in my heart. I would tell Anderson ev

r, accompanied by a rumble of thunder that echoed the turmoil within me. A sharp, searing pain erupted in my stomach, then my abdomen.

he rain lashed down, blurring my vision, chilling me to the bone. Each unanswered call was anoth

finally came through. I fumbled with the phone, my fingers numb with co

y face, leaving me cold and utterly numb. It was the low, guttural growl Anderson made when he was... satisfied. A sound I knew intimately, a soun

rced to listen, a silent, unwilling pa

ice, breathy and provocative, cut t

e my skin crawl. "You know it's always Hana, baby

ial sound. "But with you, it's different.

eep in my heart. I was freezing, numb, a hollow shell. The dial tone echo

ickly swallowed by the storm. Then the laughter turned to tears, hot and stinging

. A kind but somber-faced doctor stood over me. "I'm so sorry,

at me, expecting a breakdown, tears, a demand for explanations. But there were none. I had braced myself for a different

space in my womb, a hollow echo in my heart. I had car

pretending, of holding on, of trying to be strong – it all came crashing down. The pain, the betrayal, the fear, the loneliness, the loss of my baby, the

not being there, for losing track of time. He promised to make me soup. My vision swam thr

, and my husband was sending me empty reassurances from his mistress's bed. I pick

ote, a lie that came surprisingly ea

on. Anderson, the man I married, had ceased to exist. He was a monster, a cruel joke. He had used my name, my body, o

te another second on him. N