I Didn’t Mean to Divorce You

LAURA — 02“Congratulations, you’re pregnant,” he said but my brows had lifted in shock. He handed me a piece of paper and true to his words, records were all positive for pregnancy.Slowly, tears gathered in my eyes. My hands went to my lips as my body broke into a sob. “B—but the PCOS?” My voice broke.“PCOS makes it harder, not impossible,” he replied, his eyes glinting with hope and my tears increased. When the diagnosis came four years ago, I sobbed into Michael’s shirt. He’d said, ‘No child is worth your joy. We’ll grow old anyway.’ I believed him. PCOS had taught me to stop hoping. I learned to love the life we had.He made peace with our childlessness long before I did. At least, I thought he had.This was a miracle. My little angel. The doctor gave me some privacy and I grabbed my phone. My hands started to type but something struck me. This was a surprise, too good to just speak about on the phone like it wasn’t a miracle.I dialed his number noting with relief that he wa

LAURA — 04His mask lay cracked on the tile. I barely registered the sound, rage was all I could hear.Michael kept his eyes closed. When he finally opened them, something flickered there but it was gone before I could name it.Regret? Guilt? Maybe shame…it was gone, replaced with an emptiness that made me shiver.“I don’t know what you think this is, Laura — his eyes held a tiredness I had never seen before. Dark circles and eye bags — but I never asked you to come.” His tone was cold.I shifted back a bit, taking him in. This wasn’t my husband. Not the man I knew. Not the man I loved.“What has gotten into you, Michael? We always come to these things as a couple. We’ve been doing so for four years. How could you do this to me?” I questioned, my voice shaky.He remained stoic, his hands firmly in his pockets. “Michael?’ I pushed, needing him to say something. Anything but he stood motionless for more than a minute.He suddenly pinched the bridge of his nose “Go home, please,” his v

CHAPTER 6_Laura’s POVI left the hospital feeling empty. My discharge papers were in my hand, but they felt useless.What hurt wasn’t the pain in my body, it was the fact that Michael never came back after thenurse called him. He didn’t ask if I was fine. He didn’t return to check on me. He didn’t evensend a message.I sat outside the hospital for a few minutes, hoping he would show up. Maybe he would comerushing out of nowhere. Maybe he would remember I was still his wife. But nothing happened.The man I married disappeared into the hospital with Kayla and didn’t think of me again.By the time I ordered a ride home, my chest felt heavy.The drive was quiet. I thought about everything, how he looked at me in the hospital with thatcold expression, the way he followed the nurse without hesitation, the way he didn’t ask a singlequestion before leaving me there.I tried not to cry, but a tear slipped out. I wiped it quickly before the driver noticed.When we pulled into the compoun

CHAPTER 8 — Laura’s POVI stared at his retreating back, every step he took away from me piercing my chest. My legs feltweak, my hands shook, and I couldn’t move. The envelope in my hand was heavier thananything I’d ever held, heavier than my own heartbreak. Divorce papers. My eyes blurred, andtears fell before I could stop them.All the love he had shown me, was it all a lie? Was it ever real? I shook my head, sobbing. Howcould I have been so blind? How could I have thought I meant something to him? I wasn’t hiswife anymore. I wasn’t his priority. I was just a stand-in, a temporary comfort for a broken man,someone to keep him company until his real love returned. And now that she was back, I wasdiscarded.I pressed my hand against my stomach. The baby. My baby. The tiny life growing inside me. Iwhispered, over and over,“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” I was sorry for everything. For thinking heloved me, for trusting him, for being here when he didn’t want me. I didn’t know how I

Laura's PovI got to the hotel and signed in. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped the key. Ibarely glanced at the room number. I didn’t care. I just wanted the door closed behind me. Onceit clicked, I leaned back against it and let out a long, uneven breath. I felt hollow, drained.Everything that had happened replayed in my mind like a movie I couldn’t stop.I dropped my bag on the bed and slumped into a chair. My head ached. My stomach churned. Itouched the spot that ached the most, my belly, and winced. Even though no one knew, the lifeinside me reminded me that I wasn’t entirely alone. Not yet.The next morning came too fast. I felt weak. I had to leave. Stay here longer, and I’d crumble. Icalled my best friend from the hotel landline. She didn’t ask questions. She just said,“I’ll bewaiting.” And that was enough.I stood at the airport check-in counter vowing to myself to forget everything about Micheal.I had already broken my phone and every other device Mich