002

MELANIE

~•~

I waited for shock to cross his features, remorse, sadness, or anything remotely close to how I was feeling at the moment, but it never came.

Instead, he looked angry. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re so immature.”

“What?”

“Is this your new way of getting attention?” His lips curled in a sneer. “Lying about our baby? You are better than this, Melanie.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words were stuck in my throat. I was in disbelief. How little did he think of me to conclude I was lying about a miscarriage?

“That’s a ridiculous thing to joke about. Stop it, okay?” He warned me seriously before he turned back to Vivian. “Go and get Seth ready. We’ll pick up a gift on the way.”

Vivian hesitated for a few seconds before nodding, shooting me a glance as she went into Seth’s room.

A few minutes later, the three of them walked out together.

Patrick looked at me one last time. There was no concern in his eyes, only disappointment as if he couldn’t even bear to look at me for “joking” about the loss of our baby.

As soon as the front door closed after them, silence engulfed the house.

I stood in the living room, staring at the door. The air still smelled like Vivian’s perfume and Seth’s little shoes were lined up by the door. The house didn’t feel like mine anymore.

My knees gave up under me and the tears I’d been holding back for hours finally broke free. Our child was gone and the man that was supposed to grieve with me was focused on someone else’s family.

I couldn’t keep living like this anymore.

I didn’t know how long I stayed there before I finally forced myself to stand. My entire body felt drained, and I had no appetite. I skipped dinner and went straight to bed.

When I woke up the next morning, my body was aching and my eyes were swollen from all the crying I’d done. I reached toward the other side of the bed. Cold sheets. His pillow was untouched. He hadn’t come home.

Just as I was about to get up and shower, a loud knock echoed through the house.

Whoever was outside was clearly impatient. The knocking grew louder and more urgent with every second.

I dragged myself downstairs and opened the door.

Patrick’s mother looked furious. “Why didn’t you attend my banquet last night?” She asked the moment she saw me. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was? Everyone asked about you and you were lounging at home?”

I didn’t respond. I simply turned around and headed toward the kitchen to make some coffee.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” She demanded, walking behind me. “I always knew you were ungrateful. You were lucky enough to marry into this family and this is how you repay us?”

I opened the cabinet and brought out the coffee beans and put them into the machine.

“Patrick!” She hissed. “Talk to your wife! She is acting like an ungrateful brat!"

“Mom,” Patrick sighed. “Just stop it.” He grabbed a mug from the rack and placed it under the coffee machine, waiting for it to fill up before he handed it over to me. “It’s too early to yell. She seems exhausted.”

I was slightly surprised that he had actually said something reasonable. I took the mug from him and brought it to my lips for a sip.

“Did you sleep late?” He asked, searching my eyes. “You haven’t made breakfast yet.”

So that was it. That brief moment of warmth shattered instantly.

"No."I brought the mug down. “I’m not cooking.”

“Melanie.” His brows furrowed in confusion. I couldn’t blame him much. I’d spent the entirety of our marriage doing all the chores and taking care of him, so he thought I would do it forever.

“If you’re so hungry, there are instant meals in the cabinet.”

Patrick stepped forward and placed his arms around me. “You know I have a sensitive stomach. I’m used to your food, baby. I can only eat what you make.”

In the past that would have worked on me, but I pulled free from his grasp. “Then eat cereal.”

“You want my son to eat cereal? Are you out of your mind?” His mother’s face twisted in anger. “If you weren’t carrying a child, you would have been thrown out a long time ago!”

I looked at her, then at Patrick. If they cared so much about the child, then they could hold on to that hope a little longer. I was done explaining myself.

Before I could say anything, Vivian appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Mum, please don’t get angry. Melanie must be tired. I can cook instead.”

Patrick immediately turned to her, concern flashing across his face. “Hold on, no. I can’t allow you to do that. Your hands are important for your job, unlike—“ he cut himself off abruptly, but he didn’t need to finish the sentence. I already knew he was talking about me. 

Unlike me, just a small employee at his company. Someone insignificant.

“It’s fine.” She assured him with that fake smile of hers. “I’ll be careful.”

Vivian moved to the stove and started prepping for the food. Then I watched as she made a mess of my beloved limited-edition cute cookware. Her hands seemed almost coated in butter, slipping over everything she touched. If she wanted to get my attention, she had succeeded.

When she deliberately dropped the lid onto the floor, I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I stepped forward. “Leave it.”

I outstretched my hand for the hot water she was about to pour in the pot. The moment my hand brushed the cup, she let go. I hissed in pain as scalding water splashed across my arm.

Vivian, on the other hand, screamed and fell to the floor. “My hand!”

Patrick and his mother rushed to her at once, not even sparing me a glance. “Are you hurt?” Patrick asked with worry. “Let me see.”

He checked the cabinet for the first aid and applied ointment to the tiny burn on her hand with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in a long time.

There was a time when I scratched my hand and he almost rushed me to the emergency room. I laughed at how dramatic he was. But he had seriously kissed my hand and told me I was his most precious treasure. He had to protect me carefully.

Cliché, but I was still deeply touched.

I bit down on my tongue and focused on running water on the burnt skin on my arm. Before I knew what was happening, Patrick turned off the faucet. “Why did you do that? Apologize to her.”

“What?”

“Apologise to Vivian” He demanded. “She was cooking just fine. Why did you have to insert yourself? Now she’s injured because of your carelessness.”

This man was unbelievable. I was even more hurt than Vivian was yet he didn’t care enough to check up on me. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I’m very serious. If you didn’t have steady hands, you shouldn’t have tried to take over. I know this pregnancy has taken a toll on you, but this behavior is unacceptable, Melanie.”

I looked over at Vivian who was standing now, her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not a big deal, Pat. It was an accident. She didn’t mean to do it.”

Patrick walked back to his stepsister. “Don’t always make excuses for her. You’re too nice. She has to apologize.”

"NO." I shook my head firmly.

“Melanie!”

“I have to apologize, huh?” I asked.

“Yes. Right now.”

I nodded to myself, then before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed the abandoned coffee and poured it over their heads.

More accurately, I poured it over them in slow motion.

Vivian screamed while Patrick’s mouth fell open in shock.

“I’m sorry,” I said sarcastically.

“What is wrong with you!?” Patrick yelled. “Are you emotionally unstable? You used to be good. How did you become so hysterical?”

I opened my mouth try to defend myself. 

I wanted to tell him that Vivian had let go of the cup on purpose.

I wanted to show him that the boiling water had hurt me far more than it had hurt her.

But what was the point?

He believed I was carrying his child, yet when it truly mattered, he still chose Vivian over me.

And suddenly, I could see my future clearly. If, by some miracle, I managed to give birth, my child would grow up watching their father protect their aunt while hurting their mother.

Maybe my baby had already known. Maybe that was why she had chosen not to come into this family.

No.

I shook my head, forcing those thoughts away.

Then I opened my mouth and uttered the words I didn’t think I’d ever say.

“I want a divorce.”