Ex-Husband's Love Comes After Divorce

“Dad… don’t leave me! Please… Dad!”

My cries echoed through the emergency room that night, five years ago. My father’s body lay weak on the bed, tubes attached to his frail frame. His heart had stopped once, then beat again for a moment—only to give me false hope.

I clutched his hand tightly, tears streaming down my face.

“In this world… I only have you, Dad…” My voice was hoarse, choked by a reality I refused to accept.

But the monitor went flat, the sound turning into a single unbroken line.

“I’m sorry, we’ve done everything we could…” the doctor said with his head lowered.

I screamed, my whole body trembling. My world collapsed.

Beside me, a graceful woman in a black gown touched my shoulder. Mrs. Bagaskara. Her eyes glistened though her face remained composed. Her husband, Mr. Bagaskara, stood stiffly behind her.

“Devia…” Her soft voice pierced my ears as she gripped my hand firmly.

“This accident… was caused by the negligence of our family’s driver.” Her breath was heavy, her lips trembling.

“As atonement… marry my son. From tonight onward, you will become part of the Bagaskara family.”

I stared at her with swollen eyes. Marry? When I had just lost my father? But the look in her eyes carried both demand and a promise I couldn’t refuse.

That night, I signed my fate.

---

Five years have passed since that day. I, Devia, am now legally the wife of Argantara Bagaskara.

But “wife” is nothing more than a word on paper.

My husband—the tall, handsome man as cold as the Arctic—has never truly seen me. Not once has he acknowledged me as his wife with sincerity.

For five years, we lived under the same roof, yet his heart was nowhere to be found.

Every time I tried to get close, he pushed me away with excuses of being busy.

Every time I waited, he returned home late at night.

But tonight was different. Tonight I carried a secret—a new life within me. I was pregnant.

Though my hands trembled, my heart was filled with hope.

I wanted him to know. I wanted—just once—to see joy on his face because of me.

---

It was eleven o’clock at night.

I sat in the living room, my hand resting on my still-flat stomach, imagining the tiny life growing inside.

The front door creaked open. Footsteps echoed.

Argantara finally came home. His black suit was still neat, his face cold, his eyes never glancing at me.

“Argan…” I called softly.

“Hm.” He grunted, tossing his keys onto the table.

I stood up, forcing a smile though my heart pounded. “I… I have something to tell you.”

He shrugged off his jacket, dropped it carelessly, and sat on the sofa. His eyes weren’t on me but glued to his phone, his fingers tapping rapidly.

“Can you listen to me for just a moment?” My voice wavered, rising with nerves.

“I’m busy, Devia.” He sighed without looking up. “Tell me tomorrow.”

I bit my lip. “But this is important…”

For the first time, he looked at me. His gaze was sharp, piercing. “What?”

My lips parted—I wanted to say I’m pregnant. But something in his expression froze me. There was a firmness in his eyes, as though he had already prepared words far crueller than mine.

He straightened his posture, set his phone on the table.

“Devia,” he said flatly. “Let’s get a divorce.”

I froze. My entire body turned rigid. The words hit me like a storm.

“W-what did you say?” My voice cracked.

He met my eyes without a blink. “I want to end this marriage. We were never truly in love. So… why continue?”

My knees weakened, but I forced myself to stay standing. “You… you can’t be serious, right? Argan, listen—I was just about to tell you something—”

“Whatever it is, it won’t change my decision.”

His tone was cold, stripped of emotion.

Tears spilled down my cheeks uncontrollably.

“For five years… I waited. I endured. Do you know why? Because I believed—someday—you would open your heart to me.”

He scoffed. “You’re too naïve, Devia.”

My fists clenched. Pain stabbed through my chest, but I couldn’t stop. “I’m pregnant, Argan! I’m carrying your child!”

The room froze.

Argantara’s eyes lingered on me, then he slowly rose to his feet. His gaze flickered with something—not joy—but shock laced with rejection.

“You… pregnant?” His voice was low.

I nodded quickly, tears still falling. “Yes… this is good news, isn’t it? I thought—I hoped—this child could bring us together.”

But instead, he smirked. Cold. Cruel.

“You’re wrong, Devia.” He stepped closer, his voice heavy. “This child… won’t change anything. I still want a divorce.”

I staggered back. “Argan… don’t say that. This baby isn’t guilty of anything. I… I can’t lose again. After Dad, you’re all I have left!”

“Stop blaming me for your life,” he snapped, voice sharp. “I never wanted this marriage. It was all because of our parents. You know that.”

My chest tightened. His words cut like blades.

“So… from the start, I was just a debt payment for the Bagaskara family?” I whispered bitterly.

He said nothing. But his silence was the cruelest answer.

I sobbed, my body trembling. “Argan, please… don’t do this. If not for me, then for our child.”

He turned his face away. “I’m not ready to be a father. And I was never meant to be your husband.”

My heart shattered.

I collapsed to the floor, covering my face with both hands. My cries filled the empty room.

Argantara stood there, watching me for a moment, then grabbed his car keys again.

“I’ll speak to the lawyer tomorrow,” he said calmly. “Prepare yourself.”

The door slammed. The roar of his car engine faded into the night, leaving me alone.

Still on the floor, I clutched my stomach tightly.

“My baby… forgive me,” I whispered weakly. “You’ll be born without your father’s love. But I… I will protect you.”

Tears kept falling, mixing with fear and rage. That night, I knew my life would never be the same again.

But there was one thing Argan didn’t know—

I was not a weak woman who could be trampled on forever.

If he wanted a divorce, if he wanted to abandon me and this child, then I would fight back.

Because from that night on, I swore… I would no longer be the “cold wife” he ignored.