werewolf★ 0

A Love Divided

👁 0 reads·25 min read

My husband spent all his time tending to the woman he loved in his youth, the one who was now carrying a child.

I was burning with fever, but he was on his phone, searching for her—"How to relieve severe morning sickness?"

On the anniversary of my mother's death, he stood outside his first love's delivery room, muttering, "May mother and child both be safe."

That day, his old flame was safe.

The one who went mad was him.

Ethan came home reeking of alcohol and kissed me carelessly.

My cheeks flushed. I instinctively pulled back, one hand shielding my belly.

He noticed my hesitation and pulled me closer, his voice husky as he asked, "What are you hiding from?"

I pursed my lips, giving him a hint. "Turn off the light first."

The only light left in the room was the lamp on his nightstand, beside which I had deliberately placed my pregnancy test.

I was pregnant. I planned to tell him tonight.

But what caught his attention first was his suddenly ringing phone.

Usually, he would just hang up.

But now, his arm froze, hovering over my pregnancy test.

The caller ID flashed two words—Serena.

Serena was Ethan's first love.

His arm around me loosened involuntarily. "I need to take this."

The door clicked shut.

I stared blankly at the ceiling. Calls had come in before when we were together, but Ethan always answered them in front of me.

Serena was the only exception.

After a long while, the door opened again.

He came in smelling of smoke, leaning down to kiss me.

Thinking of the baby, I turned my head away immediately. His kiss landed on the corner of my mouth.

He frowned. "You're acting really strange tonight."

He turned to change his clothes. "An urgent case came up. You go to sleep. Don't wait up."

Ethan ran his own law firm. He never took emergency cases.

Before leaving, he suddenly leaned in again. "Do I still smell like smoke?"

I was startled.

He muttered to himself, "I heard pregnant women can't stand the smell of smoke."

My heart skipped a beat. I thought he knew.

But he straightened up abruptly, ruffled my hair. "Why am I telling you this? You're not pregnant."

He walked out of the bedroom without looking back.

I stared blankly at the pregnancy test on the nightstand. If I wasn't the one who was pregnant, then who was?

Later, I understood. The pregnant one was Serena.

After Ethan left, I called my best friend, Leah, to tell her about my pregnancy.

"I have something to tell you. Don't freak out."

She cut me off. "Let me tell you three things first. Don't freak out."

"Serena got divorced."

"Serena is back."

"Serena is pregnant."

Three sentences, like stones thrown into a still lake.

Ripples spread everywhere.

My mind went blank.

I was silent for about half a minute.

Then I answered, "So that's how it is."

"What were you going to tell me?"

I made up an excuse. "I was craving dumplings."

Suddenly, I didn't want to tell anyone.

I had a crush on Ethan since high school. We ended up at the same university.

We kept in touch occasionally.

In our senior year, he suddenly showed up at our department's farewell dinner.

But he just kept drinking, his eyes red, not saying a word.

I took him home, completely drunk.

He was tipsy but still coherent. "Vivian?"

"Ethan, it's me."

He said, "Let's give it a try."

At the time, I thought my long-time crush had finally paid off.

I only found out later that day was a special one.

...

Ethan told me not to wait up. I didn't wait for him all night, but I did get a friend request on WeChat.

It was from Serena.

I accepted.

But she didn't say anything.

Instead, she posted a full-body selfie in the mirror.

[Thanks for helping me set up my new place late at night. A new beginning, a new you and me.]

In the photo, her hand rested on her belly, slightly rounded.

But what was more glaring was the half of a man's arm reflected in the mirror. The watch on his wrist was the one I had given Ethan for our first wedding anniversary.

I checked the time. It was 12:43 AM. Ethan was helping his first love set up her new home.

Right when I was ready to tell him we were expecting a new life.

He had gone to Serena that very night.

How ridiculous.

When I first graduated, I also struggled with finding a place to move.

I had just started dating Ethan. I didn't want to bother him, so I handled the whole moving process myself.

I was broke, renting a single room in a village within the city.

One night, a drunkard kept banging on my door. I was terrified. I called Ethan. The moment I heard his voice, all the pent-up emotions burst out, and I sobbed uncontrollably.

After he found out what happened, he called the police and then came over himself.

The next day, I learned he had been on a business trip in another city. He drove two hours back that night.

I was worried about his work, but he was silently angry at me for renting such an unsafe place.

Then he helped me find an apartment in a safer neighborhood and even paid for a year's rent upfront.

I was a bit overwhelmed, my eyes red as I whispered, "Thank you. I'll pay you back."

He let out a frustrated laugh and pulled me into his arms. "Vivian, I'm your damn boyfriend."

I thought that was a privilege reserved for girlfriends.

And now.

Serena probably wanted me to see it.

I obliged her and gave it a like.

Ethan didn't come back all night. I drifted off to sleep.

When I got up for work the next morning, I saw his message.

[It was too late last night. Didn't want to disturb you, so I didn't come back. Going straight to the office. I'll pick you up for dinner after work.]

I typed and deleted messages repeatedly. I wanted to ask if he knew about Serena. I wanted to ask if he was with her last night. I wanted to tell him he was going to be a father.

But in the end, I didn't ask.

My stubbornness kicked in.

I thought, no matter what, Ethan should be the one to tell me these things.

[Okay,] I replied.

Just as I was about to leave work, Leah called and asked me to go to IKEA with her.

"Ethan is picking me up for dinner later," I said.

"At least he has some conscience. He's not running off to Serena."

I said nothing.

As soon as I hung up, Ethan called.

"Sorry, Vivian. I have to entertain a client tonight. Can't make dinner."

I lowered my eyes. "Okay."

I went to IKEA with Leah.

Leah wanted to buy a children's desk for her niece. I wandered around on my own.

I turned a corner.

"Ethan, I don't want to change. These clothes don't look good with slippers..."

I suddenly saw Serena, standing in front of her was Ethan.

The same Ethan who told me he had to work late with a client.

Ethan was holding a pair of slippers. Ignoring Serena's reluctant protests, he knelt down and took off her high heels.

"Pregnant women shouldn't wear heels for too long."

Serena pretended to resist but let Ethan change her shoes, a sweet smile on her face.

"Ethan, you're going to be a great dad."

Ethan seemed lost in thought for a moment, then a small smile appeared on his lips. "Yeah."

My heart stung.

I had said those exact words to Ethan.

When he decided he wanted a child with me, I had rambled on about how to decorate the nursery.

Ethan had pinched my cheek in exasperation. "If you describe it like that to a designer, nine out of ten would go crazy."

But a few days later, he showed me a design he had drawn, piecing together all my fragmented, chaotic ideas into a children's wonderland.

My eyes welled up, my heart felt full like it was stuffed with cotton.

I said seriously, "Ethan, you're going to be a great dad."

He hadn't responded then.

Now, he was the one saying he would be a great dad.

I thought I should leave. If I confronted them, I would be the one looking pathetic, not Serena.

But Serena saw me.

"Vivian?!" Her eyes lit up as if seeing an old friend. She hurried towards me.

In that instant, I saw Ethan reach out to steady her, telling her to slow down, afraid she might fall.

I was the pathetic one.

Serena insisted on holding my hand and catching up.

I was seething. Angry that Ethan had lied to me, yet faced me so calmly.

If only he showed a hint of guilt or panic.

Then I wouldn't feel so utterly insignificant.

I pulled my hand away.

I wasn't using much force, just trying to free my hand from hers.

But in her slippers, she swayed dramatically.

Ethan caught her.

He frowned at me. "Vivian, Serena is pregnant."

Whose fault was it?

My nose stung.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I fought, desperately, to hold back my tears.

I thought, at least I can't look too pathetic.

I forced a smile. "It's my fault. I'm sorry."

"Is that enough, Ethan?"

I remembered my first job. I was bullied by a colleague.

We were about to submit a bid, but two days before the deadline, we found problems with the documents.

We had to redo them, but the senior employees blamed me to cover their own mistakes.

I insisted it wasn't my fault.

But no one, from the boss to the staff, believed me. I ended up taking the blame.

I was furious and humiliated, but I was stubborn. I didn't shed a single tear in front of them.

When I met Ethan, he saw something was wrong and asked, "What's wrong?"

If no one had asked, I might have kept it bottled up forever.

But Ethan's question broke the dam. My tears flowed.

I sobbed, rambling incoherently about the bid documents.

Ethan listened patiently, then wiped my tears. "Don't cry. I won't let you be wronged when you're with me."

Later, news broke that the company was evading taxes. The company was small, and the investigation shut it down completely.

When I heard the news, I was stunned. I realized it was Ethan and his firm's doing.

Thinking back, I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.

It wasn't about how awkward the situation was.

I just couldn't understand how someone could go back on their word so easily.

He said he wouldn't let me be wronged.

And now?

I believed in his sincerity, but sincerity was fleeting.

Seeing me cry, panic finally flickered in Ethan's eyes.

He let go of Serena's hand and tried to reach for me. "Vivian, I just—"

I stepped back, putting my hands behind my back.

I was fiercely resistant.

"Don't touch me," I said.

Ethan's hand froze in mid-air.

Serena glanced at me, then casually pushed his hand down.

"Vivian, I'm Ethan's client now. I hired him for my divorce. I just moved and needed furniture, so I asked him to help."

"If you're uncomfortable, we can stop here."

"Ethan, I'll take a cab home. You take Vivian home. Explain things to her properly. Don't lose your temper."

Serena turned and walked away gracefully.

She was so clever.

The weak, understanding one earns sympathy.

The one who clings and makes a scene is the unreasonable one.

At home, Ethan handed me his phone.

"Serena is just a client. I haven't even added her on WeChat. There's really nothing between us."

I was tired.

I had no desire to look at his phone.

I didn't make a scene. I didn't lose my temper. I just ignored him.

But he was the one who lost his temper.

After I gave him the cold shoulder all night, he couldn't take it anymore. He gritted his teeth and pulled me out of the blankets.

"Vivian, how long are you going to keep this up?"

"Today, to avoid upsetting you, Serena left immediately. She's pregnant and she's being considerate of you. Tell me, what do I have to do to make you happy?"

My body was burning. My head was spinning.

But I still wanted to laugh.

Now I was the unreasonable one.

Serena was pregnant. What about me?

My pregnancy test was still on the nightstand, in plain sight.

Because of his job, Ethan was usually observant of even the smallest changes in the house.

If I threw away a wilted flower, he would notice and buy a new bouquet the next day, replacing all the flowers in the vase.

Now, the pregnancy test right in front of him, he couldn't see.

I could tell him, "Ethan, I'm pregnant."

And then what?

Would he change his mind? Would he give up Serena?

Could I pretend Serena's special status didn't exist?

Now, whether I was pregnant or not didn't matter anymore.

A clear idea was forming in my mind.

"Ethan, I don't want to talk about this right now. I'm tired. Can I rest?"

But Ethan, usually composed and mature in front of others, could be as stubborn as a child.

"Let's settle this before you sleep."

I sighed, took his hand, and placed it on my forehead. "Ethan, I think I have a fever."

Ethan froze, then immediately got up to find the medicine cabinet. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

He put a cooling patch on my forehead and found some oral medication.

I touched my belly and lowered my eyes. "I hate bitter things. Can you find me a piece of candy?"

There was none at home, so Ethan went to the convenience store downstairs.

After he left, I got up and flushed the medicine down the toilet.

When he came back, I acted normal and ate the candy he bought.

Maybe my illness brought out his protective instincts, or maybe he felt guilty about my tears earlier.

He was unusually gentle tonight.

He sat by my bedside, keeping the water on the nightstand warm, taking my temperature every half hour, constantly wringing out wet towels to cool me down.

His actions showed he loved me.

But that didn't stop him from checking his phone for "how to relieve severe morning sickness" while he sat by my bedside.

Just before that, he had taken a call.

He had stepped out of the bedroom to answer it.

Only Serena could make him do that.

When he came back, I thought he was going to leave.

But he just checked my temperature, changed my cooling patch, and sat down.

I turned my head, confused.

He looked back at me. "What?"

I shook my head and closed my eyes to rest.

But my senses were unusually sharp.

The bedroom was dim, but his phone screen was bright, shining directly on my eyelids.

I couldn't help but open my eyes. I saw him searching for "how to relieve severe morning sickness."

He copied the search results into a text message and sent it, adding:

Ethan: [Pregnant women can't just take any medicine. It will affect the baby.]

[I ordered some oranges via flash delivery. See if they help.]

[If it's really bad, go to the hospital.]

Serena replied quickly.

Serena: [I'm scared to go to the hospital alone, Ethan. Will you come with me?]

Ethan: [Vivian has a fever. I can't leave.]

Serena: [Okay. Take good care of her. I can manage on my own.]

She was a clever girl. She knew Ethan.

Ethan didn't like girls who made a scene, but he was easily guilt-tripped.

So she never clung. She always retreated to advance.

Seemingly understanding, not causing trouble, but subtly pulling at Ethan's heartstrings.

As expected, the conversation could have ended there, but Ethan hesitated and replied anyway.

Ethan: [If you're still feeling bad tomorrow, I'll go to the hospital with you.]

Serena: [You take care of yourself too. Don't wear yourself out taking care of a patient.]

Ethan: [Mm.]

He put down his phone, lay down, turned, and pulled me into his arms, sighing in my ear.

"Vivian, get better soon."

Did he really want me to get better?

Or so he could go to the hospital with Serena without any guilt?

I was calm inside.

It didn't matter anymore. Either way.

My health was decent. Even without the medicine, after a night of physical cooling, my fever broke.

Ethan was asleep now, exhausted from taking care of me all night.

I got up and made a pot of fragrant congee.

A lot. More than enough for two.

After Ethan and I finished, he looked at the leftover congee. "I'll pack it and take it to the office."

"Okay." I found him a thermos and put a Buzz Lightyear sticker on it.

Before leaving, he habitually leaned in to kiss my forehead.

I instinctively pulled back, but realized it was too abrupt. Before Ethan could get suspicious, I reached out and straightened his tie.

He didn't say anything. He just touched my forehead. "Fever's gone. Still feeling bad?"

"Much better."

Ethan left.

I took the day off. I planned to go to the hospital for a check-up.

On the way to the hospital in a cab, I scrolled through my social media.

I saw Serena's update.

[Morning congee /heart]

A thermos with a Buzz Lightyear sticker.

I gave it a like and commented.

"Was it good?"

"I made it."

As if I had a premonition.

When I got to the hospital, I suddenly didn't want to register.

But I didn't leave either. I sat quietly in the lobby, waiting.

About half an hour later, Ethan and Serena walked in.

Serena was laughing and talking to Ethan. He was slightly bowed, his expression gentle, listening intently.

I tried to remember if Ethan had ever listened to me with such tenderness.

The answer was yes.

I was naturally quite lively, but I didn't like talking much at work. I often held in a lot of things, and when I got home, I would pour it all out to Ethan, chattering non-stop.

Ethan would put down his work, listen seriously to my rambling nonsense, and hand me a glass of warm water at the right moment.

But these things weren't just for me.

They could be for Serena too.

Ethan didn't see me. They got into the elevator.

A pregnant woman who had come for a check-up asked me for help. I thought for a moment, nodded, and accompanied her to the obstetrics department.

Through the bustling crowd, I saw Ethan again.

Among the waiting couples, he and Serena fit in perfectly.

Their striking appearances made them stand out even more.

"Their child will be beautiful," the pregnant woman beside me remarked.

I looked at Ethan and said nothing.

Ethan suddenly looked up, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on me.

At that moment, the noise of the hospital seemed to freeze.

Panic flashed across his face. He strode towards me.

This is the second time, Ethan.

I raised the corners of my mouth and smiled at him.

He came over, his instinctive reaction to grab my hand. Seeing that I didn't pull away, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Serena came to the office today to provide materials for her divorce case. She said her stomach was hurting, so I brought her to the hospital..."

"I know."

I maintained a perfectly appropriate smile.

Serena followed, watching Ethan hold my hand. She subtly shifted her gaze and looked at me.

"Vivian, I asked Ethan to come with me. Don't blame him."

I kept smiling. "Ethan already told me."

Serena studied my expression. I met her gaze calmly.

She suddenly laughed and said two words. "It was good."

Was it good?

It was good.

Serena's attack was so blatant.

Straight to the heart.

I clenched my fists, keeping my face calm.

Not now, Vivian.

Wait a little longer.

...

Ethan bought a lot of groceries.

He rarely cooked, but today he was especially attentive.

He bought flowers, lit candles.

In the dim, romantic candlelight, he kissed my forehead and made me a promise.

"Serena and I are just friends. If it bothers you, once I finish her divorce case, I won't contact her again."

I asked him, "Ethan, if Serena had come back on our wedding day, would you still have married me?"

He was silent.

And silence was an answer.

He realized he should say something.

I covered his mouth. "Remember what you said, Ethan. Those who break their word will be punished."

Ethan spent more and more time with me.

But Serena was still a wedge between us.

After I called him out on it, he stopped referring to her as a nameless client. He would just say "Serena."

As if, by being open about seeing her, it made their relationship purely professional.

Innocent.

Whenever this happened, I would just nod faintly. But whenever he said he was going to see Serena, I would ask him to bring something back for me.

Nothing special or urgent.

Sometimes a few apples. Sometimes a bowl of wonton soup. Sometimes a magazine.

This went on for two weeks.

One time, Ethan said he was meeting Serena for work.

And I, deliberately, didn't ask him to bring anything.

He left, then came back. "Don't you need anything today?"

I shook my head.

He looked at me stubbornly. "Really? Nothing at all?"

I lifted the corner of my mouth. "We're out of soy sauce. Bring a bottle back."

He looked like he had won a prize. He kissed my forehead and left contentedly.

A seemingly beautiful, sweet facade, just covering up something rotten.

Ethan's birthday was in two days.

He usually celebrated it twice. Once on the actual day, and once a day early.

The early celebration was with his colleagues at the firm. As the boss, they would throw him a party every year.

The first year, Ethan only celebrated on his actual birthday. His colleagues celebrated with him, and he invited me.

But I wasn't good with social situations. I was afraid my being a stranger would ruin the atmosphere.

I declined.

The next day, Ethan made me celebrate his birthday with him again, just the two of us.

I asked him why.

He said, "If you're not there, it's not a real birthday."

From the second year onwards, he had his colleagues celebrate a day early, keeping the actual day for me.

This year was no different.

Usually, I wouldn't attend the firm's celebration.

But this time, suddenly, I wanted to go.

Because Serena had just posted: [This year, and every year.]

The picture was of a heart-shaped cream cake, with a crude drawing of a boy and a girl in high school uniforms—her and Ethan.

They had known each other since high school. It looked like she wanted to reminisce about the good old days.

I just wanted to see how she planned to do it. This year, and every year.

The law firm was decorated warmly.

I bought a yogurt drink on the way. When I arrived, the party had already started.

I was a bit late, but in a way, my timing was perfect.

Ethan and Serena were standing side-by-side in front of a grill.

Serena, heavily pregnant, had been standing for a while and her back was hurting.

She rubbed her lower back, frowning and complaining to Ethan like a spoiled girlfriend.

Ethan said something to her.

She pouted and shook her head, acting like a coquettish teenager with her boyfriend.

Ethan reached out and gently rubbed her lower back.

The yogurt in my hand was ice cold. I held it tightly.

"Sister-in-law? Why aren't you going over?" It was Xavier, the partner at Ethan's firm.

I didn't come to the firm often, but I had been there a few times. Everyone knew me.

I smiled and said, "In a moment."

Xavier didn't understand why I was waiting. Then he turned and saw Ethan rubbing Serena's back.

"Damn..."

Xavier looked at me in shock, then shouted, "Sister-in-law is here!"

Ethan and Serena both looked over.

In an instant, Ethan immediately pulled his hand away from Serena's back.

As if he had touched a hot iron.

He strode over to me quickly, in a hurry.

As if to prove something, he pulled me tightly into his arms. "Vivian, there's really nothing between us."

But this is the third time, Ethan.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and pushed him away. "I brought you some yogurt."

Ethan let me go, his eyes like hooks, fixed on my face, trying to read something.

I just smiled at him, my lips curving up, my eyes crinkling.

"It's to settle your stomach before you drink. But... am I interrupting?"

Ethan shook his head, holding my hand tightly, his grip firm as if afraid I would run away.

"You're not interrupting. I'm glad you came."

He led me to another grill, deliberately keeping his distance. He didn't even glance at Serena.

Serena came over on her own, smiling as she greeted me. "Vivian, you came too."

I said, "I just came to give Ethan his yogurt. I'll be going soon."

Ethan wanted to leave with me.

Serena's mask cracked. She seemed unable to believe Ethan would choose me.

The woman who prided herself on being tactful couldn't help but try to stop him. "Ethan, are you going to leave me here alone?"

Ethan hesitated for a moment, then said, "I'll have Xavier take you home."

...

These past few days, Ethan had been coming home early. He spent most of the day at home, doing all the housework.

He bought me more bags and jewelry.

I accepted them happily, and he bought them with even more enthusiasm.

But as the days passed and I remained calm, Ethan seemed to grow uneasy.

He held me and kissed me impatiently. "Why aren't you angry?"

I knew what he meant, but I played dumb. "About what?"

"On my birthday, when I helped Serena..."

"Ethan, you told me to trust you."

He was inexplicably agitated, running his hand through his hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just feel like... you shouldn't be like this."

"Vivian..."

He stopped trying to find the source of his anxiety. He kissed my fingers and spoke slowly.

"I've handed Serena's case over to Xavier. I won't contact her anymore."

I listened in silence.

Ethan said he had cut ties with Serena.

But Serena contacted me, at the worst of my morning sickness.

I refused her twice, using the excuse that I wasn't feeling well.

But I didn't expect her to come directly to my office.

Just before I was about to leave work, I came out of the restroom, and a colleague from the front desk told me a Ms. Meng was looking for me.

I knew it was Serena.

But I didn't rush out.

I had just come out of the restroom, dry-heaving. I looked pale and weak. Not very imposing.

I touched up my makeup.

We sat down at a tea restaurant near my office building.

Her first words were, "You're very clever."

I remained impassive.

"Every time I met with Ethan, you asked him to bring you something. It was deliberate, wasn't it?"

"That way, even if he was with me, he would still be thinking about you."

I knew Serena would figure it out eventually, but I wasn't afraid of her understanding.

She poured me some tea. "Thank you for keeping Ethan company during this time, for helping him through that difficult period. But I'm back now. He doesn't need you anymore."

The nausea rose in my stomach. I fought it down with all my might.

Serena continued. "May 16th was the day I officially started dating my ex-husband. So Ethan got together with you that day to spite me."

The nausea turned into a sharp pain. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead.

I gritted my teeth, refusing to show any weakness.

"December 3rd was the day I got my marriage certificate with my ex-husband. The next day, he immediately posted his marriage certificate with you. Also to spite me."

I had bitten my lip so hard it was bleeding. The taste of blood filled my mouth.

My stomach cramped, a wave of pain that made it hard to sit up straight.

"Vivian," Serena said, looking at me with pity. "I don't want to say this, but I have to. Every decision Ethan made with you was because of me."

"If I hadn't left, there would have been no place for you."

I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up and ran to the restroom.

I hadn't eaten anything, so there was nothing to throw up.

But the nausea and cramps drained all my strength.

Anger and rage burned inside me, making me want to tear everything apart.

Why?

Why me?

In the end, I could only slide down into a corner, curl up, and hug myself, waiting for the pain to slowly subside.

When I came out of the restroom, I had composed myself.

Thank goodness for the lipstick I had put in my bag. At least I looked as good as before.

Serena was polite. "You were gone so long. Are you okay?"

"Just a bit of diarrhea. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"So, do I need to say anything else?" Serena looked at me.

A direct dismissal.

The pain in my stomach seemed to have moved to my heart, as if someone was grabbing it, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing.

My hands were gripping the edge of the table underneath.

I steadied my breathing.

I forced a smile.

"Is this position of mine so desirable to you?"

"If I give it to you, then your position will be empty."

"The position of someone who can't have you, who can't forget you."

Serena wanted everything.

She said, "If Ethan and I are together, his life will be complete. There will never be another person like me."

I let out a soft laugh. "Serena, it doesn't work that way."

The conversation with Serena ended abruptly.

When I got home, I took out a storage box.

From when we started dating, to our marriage, to now. Every gift I gave Ethan, every gift he gave me, mementos of every special occasion, were all in there.

In an instant, all the emotions I had been holding back exploded.

I destroyed every single memento. If I couldn't break them with my bare hands, I used scissors.

Until everything was in pieces, including the pregnancy test that had never been found.

But the restlessness and anger inside me only grew stronger.

There was no outlet. No way to vent.

It was unbearable.

The nausea surged again. I ran to the bathroom.

I threw up until there was nothing left but bile.

Ethan came home. He patted my back worriedly. "Are you okay?"

The restlessness still had no outlet. It was like a balloon about to burst.

I lunged at him, pushing him to the floor. The scissors were at his throat. "Ethan, just die."

Ethan's eyes seemed to hold endless tenderness. "As long as it makes you feel better."

Every time, every time, he seemed to love me.

But also, every time, every time, he seemed to love someone else.

My mind suddenly became clear.

Soon.

But not now.

...

Ethan carried me to bed.

I stared blankly at the ceiling, scenes from the past flashing through my mind like a carousel.

I said, "Ethan, stay with me these days, okay?"

I made a list of things to do. On the list were me, him, and a virtual baby.

Ethan agreed. And he did it.

The first thing.

In the living room, before bed, Ethan made me a glass of milk. I drank it, and he told me to go to sleep.

I went into the bedroom, then came back out with a can of infant formula and a bottle.

Ethan was a bit stunned.

I gave a faint smile. "Don't you want a child? You need to know how to make a bottle."

Ethan was clumsy at first. Either the water-to-formula ratio was wrong, or the temperature was too high. He made a mess of it.

But he seemed to enjoy it, tirelessly trying again and again.

When he finally got it right a few times, he was so excited he wanted to take the bottle he had just made downstairs and find a baby to feed.

I checked off the first item on the list.

The second thing.

In the kitchen, I was in charge of prepping the ingredients, and Ethan was the head chef.

But today, I prepared an extra, smaller portion of ingredients.

Ethan didn't understand.

I said, "When the baby is a little bigger, we can start feeding him some solids."

Ethan hurriedly took out his phone and frantically searched for baby food recipes.

Ethan could cook. After a few tries, he got the hang of it. Making baby food was easy for him.

He even started making different variations every day, balancing fruits, rice, vegetables, and meat.

I checked off the second item on the list.

The third thing.

When Ethan was about to leave work, I called and asked him to buy some baby gates and a play mat.

I told him, "We need to clear out a space in the house for the baby to play."

He agreed happily.

Lately, Ethan had become obsessed with playing the role of a father.

It was like opening a blind box. He even looked forward to what new daddy task I would give him every day.

While he was choosing the gates and mat, he was constantly video-calling me, asking the salesperson about different materials with the seriousness of someone analyzing a case.

He took a long time. A very long time. By the time the mall closed, it was already past 10 PM when he got home.

He was full of energy, not tired at all. He started clearing out a corner of the living room and setting up the gates and mat.

"The baby can play in here," Ethan said, hugging me from behind, his voice cheerful as he pointed at the corner designated for the child.

I checked off the third item on the list.

The fourth thing.

I asked Ethan to look for kindergartens. He looked at various price ranges and finally chose a bilingual kindergarten that cost over forty thousand a semester.

I said it was too expensive.

Ethan said, "It's okay. The baby can't lose at the starting line."

Later, he went to look at small backpacks for children. He bought four each for boys and girls.

"I don't know if it'll be a boy or a girl. I bought a few. We can switch them out."

I smiled and said okay, then neatly placed the backpacks in the nursery.

I checked off the fourth item on the list.

The fifth thing.

Ethan went to look at elementary schools.

The sixth thing.

Ethan went to look at middle schools.

The seventh thing.

Ethan and I discussed extracurricular classes. If it was a boy, we would let him learn Go and Taekwondo. If it was a girl, piano and dance.

The next day, Ethan overturned the idea himself. "This can only be our suggestion. If the child has their own interests, we have to respect them."

...

I checked off the seventh item on the list.

The eighth.

The ninth.

The tenth.

...

The sixteenth.

This wasn't a task.

It was a question.

I asked him, "Ethan, if it's a daughter, what kind of man would you want her to marry?"

Ethan didn't hesitate. "She doesn't have to get married at all."

I looked at him quietly.

He gave in and said seriously, "Of course, someone who loves her completely, cherishes her, accepts her, doesn't let her suffer, doesn't let her be wronged."

"What if that person has someone else in their heart?"

"Divorce. I'll handle the divorce myself. I'll make sure he loses everything."

"What if she's pregnant?"

"No question. Get an abortion. It's her being responsible for herself and for the child. Abortion, then divorce. That's the most appropriate way to handle it."

I nodded in agreement. "You're right."

Ethan picked me up. "Vivian, when will our child come?"

He seemed to really want our child.

He seemed to really want to build a home with me.

But.

He wanted this, and that, and the other.

He wanted to have it all.

Ethan fell asleep beside me.

A text message popped up on his phone. [Ethan, my due date is in a week. I want you to be with me that day.]

There was also an unread message from a postpartum care center, reminding him that his reservation was confirmed.

I checked his purchase history. He had bought a hospital bag, and many things for the pregnant woman and the newborn.

Everything was very complete, very thoughtful.