The day I went for my amniocentesis, everything changed in an instant.

“Matthew, your wife is at our hospital. It’s urgent. Could you please come over?” The doctor’s voice echoed through the line, sending chills down my spine.

Matthew’s reply was laced with disbelief. “You doctors have started playing along with the patients now?”

Then I heard her—another woman’s voice, clear and taunting. “Already done?”

My fingers trembled as the monitor suddenly flickered, displaying a flat line. Panic surged through me.

Hours later, Matthew cradled my urn, murmuring, “Honey, enough with the drama. Please, come back.” But I was already gone.

——

The night before the amniocentesis, Matthew stumbled home at 1 AM, the door creaking as he kicked off his shoes, his weary body dragging itself into the hallway. The moment the lights flickered on, he froze, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of me sitting by the dining table.

A spread of cold, untouched dishes lay before us, a stark reminder of his absence.

“Jennifer Blake, it’s the middle of the night. Why aren’t you asleep? Are you trying to scare me to death?” His annoyance hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

I looked up, my heart racing. The man I once loved now looked polished yet hollow, reeking of alcohol and the unmistakable scent of another woman.

“What’s with this table full of food? What kind of game are you playing now?” he sneered.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off. “I’ve had a long day. Could you be a little considerate and stop making a fuss?”

His words struck deep, each syllable a dagger in my heart. Lily Smith had returned, and I was nothing more than a ghost haunting his home. Here I was, pregnant and alone, while he was lost in the arms of his first love.

He tossed his keys onto the table and headed to the bathroom. I felt the weight of his indifference as I whispered, “Did you forget? Today is our tenth anniversary.”

“Ah,” was all he offered before disappearing behind the door. The sound of his voice carried through the walls, a soft conversation with Lily that cut me to the core. “Girls should go to bed early and wake up early. It’s good for your skin.”

A bitter smile crept across my face, twisted by despair. My fingers brushed my belly, where life flickered—my only hope after years of heartache and failed IVF cycles. But now, uncertainty loomed. Genetic issues surfaced in the latest screening.

I begged my doctor for a chance, and he suggested the amniocentesis. “What if the test is wrong?” I implored.

And now, that test loomed over me like a dark cloud.

An hour later, at 2 AM, he finally emerged, irritation etched on his face as he noticed me still sitting there. “It’s 2 AM! Why are you still here?”

I pulled out the heavy screening report, my voice shaking. “The results weren’t good. I have to go for an amniocentesis tomorrow. Can you come with me? I’m really scared.”

He flung the report into the air, letting it flutter down like discarded dreams. “Do you think using the child will make me forgive you?”

“Matthew, please—”

“Stop making a fuss! Aren’t you tired of these tricks to gain my sympathy? I will never forgive you, not even if you die!”

His eyes burned with hatred, and I felt the world close in. Our marriage had become a battlefield, and I was the enemy.

“Your mother—she was so happy when she found out I was pregnant. She wanted to take care of me. But you chose your first love over me!” I shot back, rage and sorrow mingling in my throat. “If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have confronted you that day!”

The accusation hung in the air, suffocating us both. “My mother died because of you!” He screamed, fury twisting his features.

The memory of that day flooded back—a car accident, no witnesses, no one to explain why she had gone to that remote area. “She left to find you, but I couldn’t stop her!” I pleaded, my heart breaking.

I reached for the long-prepared divorce agreement, my voice steady. “If that’s how you feel, let me go. Let’s end this peacefully.”

Matthew’s laughter was cold. “Divorce? Not a chance! Unless you’re dead!”

“Is this really what you want?” I asked, my voice was calm.

“Of course. But you won’t die because you can’t let go of this child!”

“Then I have one last request. I want a divorce. I don’t want you to be the one dealing with my body. So, sign the papers!”

He slammed his fist on the coffee table, the force shaking the room. “Fine! Don’t regret it!”

Regret? I felt liberated. I printed out a new set of divorce papers and placed them before him, my heart racing with a mix of hope and fear.

Dragging my weary body to the bedroom, I booked a flight to Yunnan, where I was born. Maybe I could find peace there, away from the pain.

As I packed away my belongings, I looked at our wedding photos—smiling faces, moments of joy—and blacked them out with a marker, erasing my past.

The ring-spun around my finger before I finally removed it, placing it gently on the table.

This was not the end. It was my chance to reclaim my life.

As the first light of dawn broke, my alarm rang sharply at 7 a.m., its tone heavy with the reminder: “Amniocentesis.” In the adjacent room, Matthew's deep, peaceful snoring echoed, a stark contrast to the turmoil in my heart. I paused outside his door, feeling a sharp pang of betrayal.

“Lily, don’t go!” He murmured in his sleep, each word twisting like a knife in my chest.

I clutched my suitcase tightly, a lifeline to my new beginning, and stepped out of the home that had once resonated with laughter. I hadn’t slept a wink, yet fatigue felt distant, overshadowed by a strange sensation of rebirth and liberation.

The bright lights of the operating room felt surreal as I lay on the table, the anesthesia washing over me like a warm wave. I drifted into an unsettling sleep, a peaceful escape from the chaos of my life.

When I opened my eyes again, I was startled awake by frantic voices.

“Jennifer, wake up! You can’t fall asleep! It’s dangerous; we need to notify your family immediately!”

Struggling to stay conscious, my body betrayed me, sinking deeper into a fog. Was this what it felt like to linger on the edge of death?

The doctor’s urgency intensified as he tried to rouse me, eventually snatching my phone and unlocking it with my fingerprint. He called Matthew, desperation lacing his voice.

Each ring echoed like a death knell. Matthew rejected the call again and again. My heart sank further; he was my only family, yet he felt galaxies away.

As the situation grew critical, the doctor persisted. After a relentless series of calls, Matthew finally picked up on the 21st attempt. But before the doctor could explain, Matthew’s cold, irritated voice pierced through the line.

“Jennifer, what game are you playing now? I’m in a meeting!”

“Hello, is this Jennifer’s husband?” the doctor interjected quickly. “She’s in critical condition at the hospital, and we need—”

“Enough!” Matthew barked, dismissing the urgency with a wave of his hand. “Are you doctors in on her charade now too? If you dare deceive me again, you’ll all lose your jobs!”

From his end, a flirtatious voice chimed in, “Ah! You’re pulling out already?”

With that, my number was blocked, sealing my fate.

A piercing pain shot through my heart. I watched my own body lying still on the operating table, my fingers twitching faintly. The machine’s alarm blared ominously, signaling dangerously low oxygen levels in my blood.

The doctor worked frantically to save me, but I was done fighting. The weight of my suffering felt too heavy, and I yearned for release.

Finally, the monitor’s line went flat. The surgeon shook his head, bowing deeply to my lifeless form, his eyes filled with regret.

I felt no blame; perhaps I was simply too exhausted. My spirit floated free, liberated from my torment. I drifted aimlessly, unshackled from the memories that had haunted me.

But still, the scars of my past clung to my soul, etched deeply from my time with Matthew.

In the cold, sterile morgue, I should have felt at peace, finally free from suffering. Yet, as I reached for the inviting glow of that otherworldly light, an invisible force yanked me back, refusing to let me go.

I was drawn instead to Matthew’s side. He sat in a dentist’s waiting room, holding Lily close as she trembled with fear.

“Ah, Matthew, I’m scared…” Her voice was delicate, quivering like a fragile leaf.

Matthew tightened his embrace, his tone soothing yet firm. “Lily, don’t be afraid. It’s just a tooth extraction. Once the anesthesia kicks in, you won’t feel a thing.”

She looked up at him, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “Who was calling you just now? Was it your wife?”

Matthew sighed, pulling her closer. “If only Jennifer were as considerate as you, I wouldn’t have to worry so much. But we’re divorced now, so there’s no need for me to answer her calls.”

Lily’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction, a smile playing on her lips.

So this was what he meant by being busy—taking Lily to a dentist appointment. If he only knew that his refusal to answer the doctor’s call had cost me my life, would he feel even a flicker of regret?

The thought lingered like a dark cloud over my fading spirit, an echo of the love that had turned into ash.

No, he wouldn’t feel regret. He had been waiting for my death for a long time, eager to be free from my endless messages and calls. Now, he finally had an answer for his mother’s tragic passing.

Each time I tried to move toward that bright light, an invisible force pulled me back to Matthew’s presence. Was I bound to him even in death?

Lily had finished her tooth extraction, her cheeks slightly swollen. Matthew leaned close, blowing gently on her cheek. “When I was little, my mom said blowing on it would make the pain go away.”

His hand trembled slightly as he caressed her cheek, a telltale sign of his unease. The pain of his mother’s loss was a wound that never healed.

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked, her voice gentle and curious.

“Nothing,” he replied, forcing a weak smile. “I just thought of my mom suddenly.”

There was an awkward pause before Lily quickly changed the subject. “No work today. How about we go get something nice to eat?”

Matthew playfully tapped her nose. “You little foodie! The doctor said you need to eat light. Only porridge, remember?”

Lily pouted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But the porridge I make is awful. Why don’t you come to my place and make it for me? It’s been years since you cooked for me!”

Hand in hand, they walked toward Lily’s home. I floated alongside them like a shadow, my heart heavy with memories of this house—the very one Matthew had bought when he and Lily were still together. Even when financial troubles loomed over him, he clung to this home, borrowing from loan sharks to keep it. It had never been about us; it was always about her.

Lily had left him for a life abroad, chasing dreams while Matthew remained shackled to his past. “Do you remember?” she asked, nostalgia glimmering in her eyes. “You were in the kitchen making porridge, and I was sitting on the sofa, watching you quietly.”

“You promised to buy me a big villa,” she reminisced, “but I didn’t want that. All I wanted was a cozy little home with you.”

My heart twisted painfully. Why did my soul still feel such agony? I had once stood in that kitchen, with Matthew gazing at me, love in his eyes. We had been blissfully happy in our tiny apartment, unaware of the shadows lurking beneath the surface.

Now, Matthew turned on the gas with practiced ease, and the scent of white porridge soon filled the kitchen. A wave of memory crashed over me. He remembered something, then walked to the fridge and retrieved a few lettuce leaves. He finely chopped them and added them to the porridge.

“Jennifer… I heard adding lettuce to white porridge makes it taste better.”

His gaze lingered on the bowl, trembling as he lost himself in thought. This was the lettuce porridge I used to make for him, a comforting remedy during his sick days. I had concocted countless variations for him—century egg, vegetable, corn, pumpkin—yet I had never tasted the porridge he made.

Just then, his phone rang, and an unfamiliar landline number flashed on the screen. He answered, and a frantic voice erupted from the other end.

“Hello, are you Jennifer’s husband? You need to come to the hospital immediately to sign some papers. Your wife has passed away…”