The Crush Decided To Quit

On our third year wedding anniversary, I wanted to surprise Charles Grant, my husband, with news that I was pregnant.

But before that, on a whim, I checked his phone and saw a photo.

The woman in the photo looked similar to me, and the child in her arms resembled Charles.

I heard the bathroom door unlocking, and I looked over to see Charles coming out. Our gazes met.

The sight of his phone in my hands made his expression sink. He demanded, “Why are you going through my phone without my permission?”

I found this hilarious. The screenlock password was my birthday. Why make it so easy if he did not wish for me to look through his phone?

My silence made him come forward to pluck the phone from my hands. When he saw the photo, he was stunned, then a storm of emotions raged in his eyes.

After some time, he looked at me and said in displeasure, “You shouldn’t have searched through my phone.”

I had known Charles for years, but this was the first time he was angry at me. He seemed mad and embarrassed because I had discovered his secret.

I looked down and clenched my fists as I tried to stop my voice from quivering. “Who are they?”

All I got in answer was silence. Awkwardness that brought about unease filled the air. I snuck a look at him as he scratched his head in frustration. Finally, I saw regret in his eyes. “The kid’s mine. She…”

He seemed tongue-tied as he stared at me hesitantly for a long time. Then, he continued, “She’s my ex.”

My eyes stung, and it made Charles feel lost. In a panic, he wiped away my tears and said gently, “It’s not what you think, Lulu. I broke up with her after you came back. She never told me that she was pregnant and gave birth on her own. She only contacted me a year ago.”

His explanation was really weak. After all, he had never mentioned the fact that he had an ex.

When I went to study abroad, we had no contact with each other. Yet when I came back, I saw that Charles had been waiting for me loyally.

But it was all fake. While I was not around, someone else kept him company.

I stared at him and asked, “If she had told you back then, who would you have chosen?”

His eyes flickered with uncertainty, then he scowled and snapped, “Don’t use these meaningless hypotheticals to test me.”

He chose to run when faced with this dilemma, but I saw him wavering.

I sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile. “Do you want a divorce, Charles?”

He immediately rejected the idea and got changed in a hurry before leaving. He did not spare me another glance.

On the third night, he came back smelling of alcohol and pinned me under him.

His kisses burned, and he was so aggressive that I did not have the chance to catch my breath. The thick smell of alcohol assaulted my nose, but there was also a barely noticeable smell of perfume that came with it.

When I was about to suffocate, he let me go. Charles’s bloodshot eyes were misty.

“Lulu, you have no right to ask for a divorce.” His quivering voice was laced with sadness, as if I was the one in the wrong.

I pushed him away and sat up as I asked coolly, “Did you change your cologne?”