Semua Bab One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband: Bab 1 - Bab 9

I turned around without a word and walked out the door, shutting all the shouting and chaos firmly behind me. Pulling out my phone, I sent a message to my lawyer friend: [Stacy, I want a divorce.] Stacy's reply came quickly: [What? Why? You just had a baby.] Cammy: [He doesn't deserve to be my baby's father.] It was already late autumn, and the wind howled as it whipped against my thin frame. Pain rippled through my abdomen where the incision was still raw, and the tearing pain below flared with every step. The streets were desolate, with no sign of life except me standing under a flickering streetlamp in nothing but my flimsy pajamas. Four hours passed since I left the house, and not a single call from Mark. I thought about finding a cheap motel to stay the night, but then my thoughts drifted to my baby—he was still so small, and he needed to be fed every two hours. With a sigh, I turned around and retraced my steps, my slippers dragging on the pavement as I made my wa

Lily hadn't left. She seemed to have just finished a shower, her damp hair draped casually over her shoulders. She was wearing my old nightgown from before I got pregnant, the fabric stretched tight over her ample figure. When she saw me, she let out a startled gasp, as though I were an unwelcome intruder in her home. "Oh, you're back, Cammy," she said with feigned surprise, her voice laced with artificial sweetness. "I just got back from abroad. My own place isn't ready yet, and Mark kindly offered to let me stay here. You don't mind, do you?" Even as she spoke politely, her eyes ignored the open neckline of my nursing clothes, and she walked right up to me, her presence brimming with unspoken provocation. Her lips, painted in an exaggerated pout, curved upward as she purred, "Mark, Cammy looks great even after pregnancy. She must have really taken good care of herself." But in the corner of her gaze, the one Mark couldn't see, mockery gleamed. She stared pointedly at my sag

With Stacy helping to care for the baby, I finally had a moment to check my phone for any missed messages. Unlocking the screen, I found nothing but Stacy's concerned inquiries and an endless stream of chatter from Mark's so-called "brotherhood" group chat. The group had added me only after I married him, while Lily had already been part of it long before. That's when I learned about her—a childhood playmate of his, someone he grew up with. Predictably, the messages were filled with concern for Lily. "How's our precious Lily doing? Mark, you really messed up this time—how could you not take better care of her?" "We all get it, though. It's not easy when a certain someone is so petty." I scrolled past the words, my expression cold, and kept reading. "You're spoiling Lily again, aren't you?" "That chicken soup looks so good, I'm drooling!" "You two are outrageous!" My chest tightened at the mention of chicken soup. Scrolling further, I found the source—a video Lily ha

The dishes arrived one by one, each exquisitely plated and delicately arranged. Mark picked up his knife and fork, slicing the steak into neat pieces before placing them onto Lily's plate. "Mark," Lily said softly, her voice laced with nostalgia. "Ever since I went abroad, no one's cut my steak for me like this." Mark glanced at me briefly but offered no reply to her suggestive remark. I paid no attention to their little exchange, more interested in finishing this meal and finally broaching the topic of divorce. Lily, however, turned her gaze to my hands and let out a laugh, the kind that's meant to sting. "Cammy, why are you holding your knife and fork like that? Don't you know how important table manners are with French cuisine? When you eat, you're supposed to put the knife down and only use the fork." Her words dripped with mockery, aiming to paint me as uncultured, as if she was expecting me to flush with embarrassment. But I didn't bite. I calmly continued eating,

When I heard Lily's name, I finally lifted my head. Looking at the man in front of me, nearing thirty, using his inability to judge someone as an excuse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of absurdity that I had sacrificed my youth for a man like this. "Mark, listen to yourself. Don't you find it ridiculous? If you really feel sorry, you'll make Lily pay the price! "You saw how she threw our son out of the window, didn't you? Are you still protecting her?" Sure enough, Mark froze. After a long pause, he hesitatingly said, "Our son wasn't hurt. Lily was just being a bit willful..." "And what about me?" The feelings I thought I had already buried rushed back like a flood breaking through a dam. "What about me, Mark? Does my pain not count? Does it not hurt? "Because of Lily, I've been hospitalized twice in half a month, and my wounds have torn twice! Just because I married you and had a child, does that mean I don't deserve to be taken seriously? "Mark, I'm flesh and blo