
On my fifth year anniversary, my wife, Rachel Sutton, announces her pregnancy on her social media feed.
"After going through artificial insemination for the 39th time, I finally got pregnant with your child as I wished."
The accompanying photo features Rachel lacing fingers tightly with her first love, Damon Calloway.
I leave a like on the photo calmly. Then, I give them my blessings.
The next thing I know, Rachel calls me on the phone. She roars at me furiously, "Damon is diagnosed with cancer! What's wrong with me bearing a child for him? Garrett Whitaker, you're being too much right now!"
I reply coolly, "Then come back and file for a divorce. Once the divorce is through, you can go ahead and find yourself a husband who won't 'become too much.'"
The moment I hung up the phone, my heart continued to seize with a dull ache.
When we got married, Rachel Sutton had insisted that she was terrified of the pain of childbirth and absolutely didn't want kids.
On top of that, she argued that raising a child was a massive headache. It was both time-consuming and energy-draining.
To respect her wishes, we used protection every single time we were intimate throughout our five years of marriage. I even managed to get my parents off her back, convincing them to never pressure her about bearing children.
But two months ago, she started buying strollers and baby formula. I naively assumed Rachel had finally changed her mind and wanted to start a family with me.
As it turned out, she had absolutely no intention of making me a father. She was doing it to carry on the bloodline of her cancer-ridden first love, Damon Calloway.
When Rachel came home, I happened to be on the phone with my boss, discussing an overseas transfer.
He had been trying to ship me out to our Eldoria branch for ages, but I could never bear to leave Rachel behind, so I kept turning him down.
After today, though, regret washed over me. She wasn't worth throwing away my career for anymore.
Rachel crept into the bedroom, her movements far more cautious and hesitant than usual.
She lay down beside me and, for the first time in our entire marriage, took the initiative to wrap her arms around my waist.
"Are you still mad at me?" she asked, her tone gentle. "Honey, Damon has cancer. All he wants is a biological child before he goes, and I couldn't just stand by and do nothing.
"Besides, I genuinely forgot today was our anniversary… It's just a date on a calendar. We can celebrate it any other time."
The pungent stench of hospital disinfectant rolled off her skin and hit my nostrils.
I peeled her hands off my waist and silently shifted toward the far edge of the bed. The smell was suffocating, making my stomach turn.
"Don't worry about it. From now on, you can spend as much time playing nurse to Damon as you want. I'm bowing out," I said.
Seeing that her attempt to make peace was met with total indifference, Rachel ran out of patience.
"Garrett, what the hell is your problem?" she snapped. "Is it because I'm pregnant with Damon's baby? Don't forget that if you hadn't badgered and pursued me back then, I never would've agreed to marry you in the first place, and I wouldn't have missed my chance with him.
"Besides, I told you the day we got married that I would never fall in love with you. Damon is the only man I will ever love."
As she spoke, her gaze burned with fury.
"Honestly, I didn't even have to tell you about this. But you're my husband, and I thought you’d actually show some empathy. I never expected you to pick a fight over something so trivial."
Rachel lay there, waiting for me to cave and apologize like I always did.
But a long, heavy silence stretched between us.
Seeing that I remained turned away from her, completely unfazed, her expression twisted in fury, and she stormed off the bed.
"Fine! Since you're so unhappy with me, we'll sleep in separate rooms," Rachel muttered coldly. "I'll come back when you finally figure things out."
With a dark, petulant scowl, she left the room.
Watching her silhouette, I let out a humorless laugh.
In Rachel's mind, I was the villain who had torn apart her grand, unbreakable romance with Damon. I had no idea I possessed that kind of power.
Because she was carrying his baby, she assumed that all she had to do was inform me, and I had to accept it.
I wasn't allowed to have an opinion, let alone express an emotion, or else I didn't truly love her.
But why? Was I obligated to endure this humiliation just because I love her?
Well, I didn't want to anymore.