Despised Relationships (English Version)

I greeted my husband with a bright smile the moment he stepped through the door. "I'm pregnant," I announced, my voice brimming with excitement. But his reaction made my smile falter. "How would you even know?" he asked, his tone cold and distant. The question stunned me. He’s my husband. Who else could it be? "Because you’re my husband… after all, right?" He smirked, his eyes filled with contempt, as if I were something filthy beneath his shoes. "I’m not sure I’m the only one who’s had you," he said. Without waiting for my reply, he walked past me into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and continued, "You disappear for days. And I’m supposed to believe that? Are you serious?" "Just because I leave the house doesn’t mean anything." I didn’t tell him about the countless women he’s been with. I didn’t tell him about the nights he never came home, or how I knew exactly what he was doing. I kept quiet—because I was afraid. Afraid that if I pushed him away, our family would sh

Steve was gone when I stepped out of the bathroom. My body still ached, each step a reminder of last night. Even walking was difficult, my thighs sore and raw. “He’s too excited to talk to my parents that he left me here like this?” I muttered under my breath, wincing. “I can barely walk. Shit.” I forced myself downstairs, gripping the railing. Every step was slow, painful. In Rose’s living room, my parents sat stiff and serious. Steve was across from my father, head bowed, rubbing his temples—probably hungover. Rose lingered off to the side, her expression uneasy. My father’s voice cut through the silence. “Are you my daughter’s boyfriend?” Steve looked up, his gaze flat. “No.” My father’s frown deepened as he turned to me. “He’s not your boyfriend?” “N-no, Dad,” I murmured, staring at my hands. My father sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before speaking again. “Even if you’re not together, you should marry her.” My head snapped toward him. “What?” Steve’s brow

Today was the day I’d have lunch with Steve’s family. My chest felt tight with nerves, wondering what his parents might say to me. They probably already knew I wasn’t the woman he’d proposed to, but the one he was forced to marry. Even though I didn’t want to, I took a shower and dressed myself up. I slipped into my black bodycon dress and matching pumps, adding a single hairpin to the side of my hair. I looked like I was going to a funeral—because in a way, I was. I was mourning the death of my youth, my freedom, my life as I knew it. When I came downstairs, Mommy and Daddy were already waiting. Daddy raised an eyebrow as he looked me over, then smirked. “It’s not obvious you’re mourning the wedding, Czes. Let’s go,” he said. I just followed them outside. I wanted to talk to Mommy, but she avoided me the moment I got close. The distance between us cut deep. She used to take care of me, just the two of us. Now she acted like I didn’t exist—not even a glance. Her coldness hurt. And

I’d been staying at Amirah’s rest house for several days. We both turned off our phones to avoid any disturbance. So far, the quiet, the sea breeze, and the view had been a balm to my mind. But I still tried not to get too caught up in the peace. If I did, I’d start wondering if anyone even cared about me. Especially Mommy. She was probably stressed by now. But Daddy? I knew he’d only start looking for me because of the company merger with Mr. Harrison. “Girl! Come here, quick!” Amirah’s voice rang out from below. I was lying on the veranda, and she was looking up at me. “Why?” “Just come down!” she yelled. I laughed before deciding to go. As I stepped down, I noticed she had company. “Come here, B. I want you to meet this beautiful family!” Amirah beamed, pulling me toward them. “What if they tell Daddy about us?” I whispered. “Sheesh! They don’t even know him!” The family smiled warmly at us—a couple, two sons who looked a little older than us, and two girls somewhere betwee

Instead of enjoying my day off, here I am, mumbling to myself in my bedroom. No energy to go out. No desire to take a walk just for fun. Whatever I do, my mind stays chained to what’s happening. How can I enjoy anything when my heart is heavy with resentment? I lean back against the headboard and slip my earphones in, letting the music hum faintly. If I could stay here all day, I would. But Daddy said the people bringing my gown were coming to measure me. They said it was already made, and they’d only adjust it if needed. Tss. Before… I used to dream about wearing a beautiful white gown and walking down the aisle. Now, I just hope it won’t happen. Not like this. A knock breaks the stillness. I pull my earphones out, place my phone on the bed, and get up to open the door. Two smiling gay men greet me in unison. Behind them stands Mommy, her face unreadable. “Good morning, ma’am!” they chime together. I want to return the smile, but I can’t—not when my chest feels like this.