Best Ex Ever, Worst Husband Alive

Just as I slipped the signed divorce agreement into a document envelope, my husband, Samuel Sullivan, returned. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and there was a fresh cut on the back of his hand.

His steps faltered when he noticed the envelope on the table. "Divorce agreement?"

I hummed in response.

Samuel didn't open it. He simply tossed his car keys onto the table and asked wearily, "Is this because I didn't show up at the hospital?"

"Mom had heart bypass surgery."

"I know, but didn't the surgeon tell you it was a success?" He massaged his temples, as if he were dealing with a trivial matter. "I'd already set a time to receive Willow's swing chair. If I didn't go, who knows when I'd be free again?"

I stared at the cut on the back of his hand. Five years ago, when we moved into our marital home, I wanted to place a rocking chair on the balcony. He told me the balcony was too small and that it wasn't practical to put something like that there.

Later on, I realized that it wasn't a matter of practicality. My wishes simply weren't worth his time.

When I remained silent, he pulled out the agreement and flipped through a couple of pages. "I have no objections to how the assets are divided. But divorce is out of the question," he said calmly, as though he were simply informing me of a decision that had already been made.

"Janice, you've been under too much stress lately, and your emotions are all over the place. So, I'm not going to hold it against you. Once Rowena is transferred out of the ICU, I'll take you out for a meal, and we'll put this behind us."

I looked up at him. "Samuel Sullivan, do you think visiting your mother-in-law after her surgery makes up for what you did to me?"

"What else do you want then?"

Just then, his phone rang. It was a custom ringtone. For five years, whenever that ringtone sounded, whether we were eating, sleeping, or arguing, he would answer it immediately.

Willow Emerson's voice came through the receiver. "I think the swing chair's crooked, Samuel. It keeps wobbling whenever I sit on it."

Samuel's brows drew together. "Get off it right now. You're going to hurt yourself."

"I didn't want to bother you, but I can't reach the screws at the top." Willow paused before asking gently, "Is your wife upset? Never mind, then. I won't sit on it tonight. I'll just call property management to fix it in the morning."

Samuel picked up his car keys. I placed my hand firmly on the envelope. "You haven't looked through the divorce agreement yet."

"I told you—don't use divorce to test me." He pushed my hand aside. The gesture wasn't forceful, but he didn't hesitate in the slightest.

"I don't have the energy to humor you right now, Janice Fischer. Willow is home alone. What if she falls?"

"When Mom was alone in the ICU, why didn't you ever think about what would happen to me?"

His expression hardened. "Rowena has doctors and nurses, while Willow's on her own. Besides, there was nothing I could do to help even if I went to the hospital. Why do you always have to pit them against each other?"

I slowly withdrew my hand. So, in his eyes, as long as there were doctors and nurses, Mom didn't need family.

I'd spent nine hours clutching Mom's surgical consent form, too afraid to even close my eyes. Meanwhile, merely two miles away, he'd been assembling a swing chair for another woman. He had just returned, but he was rushing off again because of one little screw.

Samuel was almost out the door when he glanced over his shoulder. "Willow has been running a home decor account lately, and her videos are getting a lot of attention. It's good publicity for the company, too. Quit letting jealousy cloud your judgment and losing sight of what's important."

The moment the door clicked shut, I received a call from the hospital. "Ms. Fischer, the patient has come to, and she's been asking for you."

By the time I hurried into the ward, my mom, Rowena Delaney, was still hooked up to an oxygen mask. With great effort, she raised her hand and gently touched the corner of my reddened eye. "Samuel hasn't returned?"

I tucked her hand back under the blanket. "He came back, but something came up at work, so he had to leave again."

The disappointment in her eyes lasted only a moment before she made an excuse for him. "It's a good thing for a man to be busy with his career."

I nodded.

Right then, a new video had popped up on the local trending list.

Willow sat on the swing chair while Samuel knelt in front of her. He had his head down as he inspected the anchor straps.

The camera panned across the wedding ring on his left ring finger. A netizen in the comments asked if he was married.

Willow replied almost instantaneously, "He simply promised to take care of me for the rest of my life."

Several seconds later, Samuel liked the comment.