Leaving Heartbreaks Behind

I took the villa’s front door key from my bag and gently slipped it under the doormat.

As I stepped outside, a message from Christopher appeared on my phone:

[Nathan says he wants pancakes from that shop in the south of the city.]

In the past, I would have hurried onto the subway without a second thought, picking up those pancakes along with a box of milk.

But now…

Without a moment's hesitation, I turned off my phone, pulled out the SIM card, and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

Using the Wi-Fi at a convenience store, I booked the earliest train ticket back to my hometown.

As I completed the payment, I received a notification that Christopher had started a voice call on a chat app. I accidentally pressed “accept.”

His irritated voice rang out:

[Where the hell did you disappear to? Aren’t you coming back?

[Nathan’s been asking for pancakes, and you didn’t even bother to get him any. He’s practically starving.

[You dare to develop a temper tantrum now? You demand a divorce and then ignore my message. I think—” His voice cut off abruptly as I hung up, my expression blank.

I blocked him without hesitation. Whatever it was, it no longer mattered.

I had left early the day before to buy Nathan’s favorite flowers.

Afraid of embarrassing him, I’d also gone out of my way to purchase an obscenely expensive dress.

However as fate would have it, on the way to his performance, I got into a serious car accident.

I crawled out of the overturned car and, despite the paramedics urging me to get checked, I ignored them and hurriedly jogged to the venue.

A large patch of skin had scraped off my forehead, and my knees and elbows were bloody.

Nathan didn’t care in the least.

He complained about my dirty clothes and my disheveled hair, but not once did he think to ask if I was in pain. I reached out to hug him, but he shoved me away.

“Get away! Don’t get your filth on my clothes!” he shrieked.

The disgust in his eyes stung.

Stunned, I stood frozen, watching as he linked arms with Janine Beck and walked away without a backward glance.

Christopher trailed behind them, and as he passed me, he deliberately shoved me aside, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Look at you—you're not even worth a single strand of Janine’s hair. No wonder Nathan wants nothing to do with you.”

A parent who knew me patted my shoulder and asked if I needed a ride to the hospital.

I held back tears, shook my head, and clutched the battered bouquet. I left on my own.

It wasn’t until I boarded the train and settled into my seat that I realized how hastily I’d walked away.

Glancing at the date on my phone, I noticed it was my birthday.

Ten years of marriage, and I’d spent every day tirelessly caring for Christopher and Nathan, never once celebrating my birthday—and naturally, no one else remembered it either.

When the train attendant passed with the snack cart, I picked out a small, unassuming slice of cake.

I hadn’t eaten all day, and my stomach growled in protest. But still, I placed the cake on the tray with quiet reverence, closed my eyes, and made a wish.

“From this day forward, I will live only for myself.”

As I opened my eyes, ready to take a bite, I glanced up and saw the little girl seated across me staring at the cake, her eyes wide with longing.

She swallowed, captivated by that small, imperfect slice—just like how my son Nathan used to gaze at treats when he was little, his eyes filled with innocent hunger.