The divorce took a toll on James.
Our mutual friends in the social circle gossiped to me that James’s mother was furious. For a while, he was walking around with visible handprints on his face.
The elderly Mrs. Sullivan actually called me once, her voice filled with disappointment: “If he wants a divorce, let him have it. Can’t you do something about it? The child? The child is a Sullivan. Does Rachel Thompson deserve to be part of our family? I’ll accept the child, but her?”
Her voice softened at the end: “Amelia, dear, I know you’ve been wronged. I’ll make it right for you. You-“
cut her off, saying, “Mrs. Sullivan. There was a noticeable pause on the other end. I continued, “Mrs. Sullivan, I’ve already agreed to the divorce.”
The formal address hurt the old lady’s feelings. She had always been fond of me, treating me like her own daughter. After a long silence, she sighed deeply and hung up.
Despite the uproar, it only took about a month for the Sullivan family to soften their stance. No matter how angry Mrs. Sullivan was, she couldn’t resist when such a small child stood before her, timidly calling her “Grandma.”
D
11:44 PM
>
James personally delivered the divorce papers to my parents‘ house. He knelt before my parents for an entire day before my mother finally called me to come back.
James had always been the golden boy. When I returned, I saw him standing under the ginkgo tree in my family’s yard. The recent turmoil had clearly taken its toll on him, but soon, he would see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I called out to him, and he turned. I managed a small smile and said, “I thought you were going to mail these to me?”
James remained silent for a moment before replying, “I needed to apologize to your parents in person.” He looked at me, his dark eyes deep with emotion, and added, “And to you as well.”
I quickly turned my head away, blinking hard, then extended my hand and said, “Alright, give me the papers.”
I signed the documents and sent them to James’s assistant.
Not long after, I received a text from James saying the divorce certificate was on the entryway table in the City A apartment, and I could pick it up anytime if I needed it.
I politely replied, “Noted, thank you.”
When we ran into each other at private events, we would nod and smile. James would ask cordially, “How have you been?”
“Fine, thank you. And you?”
“I’m doing well.”
It was as if we hadn’t shared a life together for three years, five months, and six days.
Of course, those three–plus years left their mark. During the divorce, my health took a turn for the worse. After the divorce, I experienced prolonged insomnia, loss of appetite, and bouts of vomiting.
After these symptoms persisted for over two weeks, I went to the hospital. With the test results in hand, I sat on a bench in the hospital garden for an entire afternoon, marveling at how cliché my situation had become.
I saw James when I was picking up my takeout. He was leaning against his car, smoking, with three or four cigarette butts at his feet. It dawned on me that the hospital I had visited was invested in by the Sullivan family, so it made sense that James had found out so quickly.
I involuntarily stopped in my tracks. James looked up at me, quickly stubbed out his cigarette, and waved his hand to disperse the smoke in the air. Then he looked at me, a silent standoff ensuing.
After what seemned like an eternity, I heard him say, “What do you plan to do about this child?”
He stood before me, his voice strained as he asked, word by word, “You’re not thinking of keeping this child, are you?”
I didn’t know how to react or what expression to wear when faced with James asking such a question.
I tried to remain calm as I countered, “We’re divorced now, aren’t we? This is my business, Mr. Sullivan.”
James lowered his gaze to look at me. The streetlight cast shadows across his face, fragments of light dancing in his eyes. Something seemed to be churning in those ink–black eyes, but he suppressed it.
He said, “You know, Amelia, if our families find out about this child…
He trailed off, but I immediately understood. If our families knew about this child, James and I would be forced to remarry. Especially considering his long–lost love and her child, they would never have a chance to be accepted into the Sullivan family.
That’s why he rushed over as soon as he heard the news.
I, who hadn’t uttered a single unnecessary word during the divorce, who could still smile when being mocked by our social circle, who could maintain a cordial demeanor when seeing James…
I finally raised my hand, and after months, that heavy stap finally landed on James’s face.
11:45 PM
<
I finally raised my hand, and after months, that heavy slap finally landed on James’s face.
He silently accepted it.
3
C
I went to City C alone for the procedure.
As I lay on the hospital bed under anesthesia, I saw the ginkgo tree outside the window. The wind was strong that day, causing the leaves to flutter down in droves.
I remembered that day when I held the diagnosis report, not knowing what to do. After clutching my abdomen and thinking blankly for a long time, I ordered my first proper meal since the divorce.
At that moment, I thought, if the child were born malnourished, it wouldn’t be good.
As I emerged from the hospital bed, holding my abdomen, I saw a tall figure leaning against the wall. When James trembled and came to support me, I pushed him away with one hand.
