Chapter 8
His voice suddenly rose, echoing through the quiet hospital room with a raw, unfiltered anger. He completely lost control–shouting with no care for his image.
The nurse outside rushed in immediately. “Stop yelling! This is a hospital! She just had an abortion–she needs rest.”
The room fell silent at her scolding.
After a tense pause, the nurse left, still muttering disapproval.
Geoffrey’s temper finally cooled. He sat down beside me again, this time more subdued, studying my face with an unreadable expression.
I turned away from him.
We’d been together since college–ten years. We had lived through our youth, our dreams, our shared milestones… and yet, in the end, we still came to this: strangers sitting on opposite sides of a hospital bed.
After a long silence, he spoke again, his tone softer. “Jean… I know you’re emotional right now. You’re not thinking clearly. Just rest, okay?”
That night, he stayed at the hospital.
The next day, he returned–this time with Matthew.
The moment Matthew saw me, his big eyes turned red. “Mom… what happened to you?”
He sniffled hard. “You always said real men don’t cry… but seeing you like this makes me so
sad…”
I opened my arms, hugging him tightly. My throat ached with the weight of everything I couldn’t
say.
He was so good–too good.
I had hesitated on divorce so many times… because of him.
If it weren’t for Matthew, maybe I would’ve let go a long time ago.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, kissing his forehead. “Even the bravest man can cry in his mama’s arms.” Geoffrey reached out and ruffled Matthew’s hair. “Be good, alright? Don’t trouble your mom. She
needs to rest.”
He left shortly after, saying he had work.
Matthew stayed and kept me company the whole afternoon. While I was coaxing him to sleep, he suddenly asked, “Mom… are you and Dad going to live in separate houses?”
My heart skipped. “Why would you ask that?”
His small voice trembled. “Dad said you were mad at him. He told me it might take a long time for you to forgive him… and I should help make you happy.”
My chest tightened.
Geoffrey had always known how to strike where it hurt most. Now he was using our son to get to
13
I smoothed Matthew’s hair. “No, sweetheart… Mom’s not angry. Go to sleep, okay? No matter
what happens, Mom will always love you.”
Only then did he close his eyes.
That night, Geoffrey returned to pick him up.
After dropping Matthew off at home, he came back–to me.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Geoffrey, he’s still just a child. Don’t drag him into our mess.”
He didn’t flinch. “If we divorce, he’ll have to choose who to live with anyway.”
He shrugged off his coat and leaned in, his eyes inches from mine. “Since you want a divorce, be ready–if I agree, I’ll fight for custody. And I’ll win.”
I stayed silent.
Of course I knew. I had no job, no income. In a custody battle, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
If I wanted freedom, I had to give up the most precious person in my life.
He saw the hesitation in my silence and gave a smug smile. “Scared now? Then don’t divorce. Let’s drop it.”
I met his eyes–calm, resolute–and shook my head.
His expression turned cold. He didn’t say another word that night. And by morning, he was gone.
He didn’t visit again in the days that followed.
I didn’t ask.
When it was time to be discharged, I decided to handle everything myself. I was just about to eave the ward when a sharp voice echoed from the hallway.
‘Jean! Are you insane?!”
t was my mother–in–law.
‘You want a divorce? Have you even thought about your brother?!”
My heart sank.
Yes, I had thought of him.
My brother, who lost our father in a car accident before he was five. My mother had never
ecovered. She cried every night from then on.
Tai Jun is a dreamer and storyteller who believes the sky is never the limit. He spends most of his time with his friend Lian, chasing new horizons and crafting tales that soar beyond boundaries.