Love's Second Life: Rebuilding From Scratch

After my miscarriage, Arthur Hastings didn't even ask how I was doing. Instead, he took his junior colleague, Aria Clementine, out for a spicy barbeque.

You only lost a child, he said. "Aria, on the other hand, lost the joy of eating spicy food!"

The two of them were having a grand time, chatting and laughing.

Then Aria made a high-profile declaration of love to him on Instagram: [My nervousness is yours, my love letters are yours, my sleepless nights are yours, the April mornings are yours.]

I replied in the comments: [The man I don't want is yours, too.]

.....

During my period, I experienced unbearable abdominal pain and went to the hospital for a checkup, only to discover I had a chemical pregnancy.

When I told Arthur the results, he just said, "There will be others," and hastily hung up the phone.

He was always been so sparing with his words.

Even the loss of a life couldn't stir any emotion in him.

However, this morning, when he received a call from Aria, his usual composure was replaced with uncontainable joy.

Aria invited him to look at houses with her, and Arthur agreed without hesitation.

He turned to me and explained, "Aria just got back and isn't familiar with the area. I need to fulfill my duties as a host."

Aria was Arthur's junior at university. After graduating, she went abroad to further her studies and recently returned to Mayby.

Since her return, she had captured Arthur's complete attention.

In truth, in Arthur's heart, I was merely his wife, not his beloved.

A wife was a symbol to present to the world, a facade for appearances.

My profession as a university lecturer did indeed complement his image.

A beloved, on the other hand, was his flesh and blood, his soulmate.

I understood the distinction between the two, but I naively believed that effort could bridge the gap, so I always tried my best to cater to his preferences.

He was a man of few words, so I filled the silence with mine. He disliked dealing with trivial matters, so I took on the responsibility of managing the household, allowing him to focus on his career.

But he always remained distant.

Just now, I even detected a hint of relief in his words of comfort.

A wave of bitterness washed over me. It seems that in Arthur's eyes, I am not worthy of being the mother of his child.

Five years. Even a stone would have warmed up a little after being held for that long.

Suddenly, I felt like everything had been in vain.