Too Late to Marry in Haste

It was the eighth year since my husband, Vincent, had come back to me.

His mistress, unable to wait any longer, had finally married someone else.

Vincent drank himself into a bleeding ulcer at a bar and held my hand all night, whispering, Im sorry, Layla. Im so sorry.

Layla was the young woman hed kept on the side.

I had waited her out, from her fresh-faced youth until the first lines appeared around her eyes. Now, her patience had run out. She was getting married tomorrow, and she had deliberately chosen my wedding anniversary to do it.

A final, spiteful jab to show me she hadn't truly lost this war.

But I had been waiting for this day for a long time, too.

I sent the video of her and Vincent to her new in-laws. Then, I asked Vincent for a divorce.

This was the eighth anniversary wed celebrated since Vincent had returned to our marriage. It had also been eight years since hed broken it off with his mistress.

I was thirty-five now. The mistress was thirty. We weren't young anymore.

I no longer shared the little details of my day with Vincent. I didnt get jealous. I didnt check up on him. I had become the perfect, detached wife hed always wanted.

In turn, Vincent had started to love me more and more. Hed even consulted a spiritual advisor to find the perfect burial plot for us to share.

On our anniversary, I cooked a feast and called him.

He didn't answer.

I called again and again, persistently. I had my eye on a sprawling penthouse, and a sentimental day like this was the perfect time to get Vincent to sign the check. I usually didn't care where he was or what he was doing, but today, he had to show up.

Finally, someone answered. Sophie, its Ben. Vince is in the hospitalbleeding ulcer. You need to get here, fast.

I calmly finished the dinner Id prepared for myself and texted back, Okay.

On my way to the hospital, I got a message from Layla.

See? Even though Im getting married, hes still thinking of me. I did this on purpose, just to ruin your anniversary.

If I cant be happy, neither can you.

You used your dead child to guilt him into coming back to you. You should have known this was coming. When you wake up in the middle of the night, do you ever think about that poor, lost baby?

I closed my eyes, a sharp pain twisting in my chest.

Soon, I would have justice for my child.

When I arrived, Ben, Vincents best friend, immediately started berating me for taking so long.

You were here, werent you? I replied coolly.

Im not a doctor! What was I supposed to do?

Youre his wife, Ben said, his voice laced with disappointment. How can you be so careless? If Id known

He stopped himself.

I let out a cold laugh and finished his sentence for him. If youd known, you would have told him not to come back to me, so hed still have someone who actually cared about him.

I had heard that line from Ben more times than I could count. He was the one who had convinced Vincent to break it off with Layla and recommit to our marriage. Now, he was the one constantly complaining that I wasn't taking good enough care of him. His initial relief had soured into a running commentary on my failings as a wife.

But I no longer cared what Vincents friends thought. Let them say what they wanted.

Vincent probably felt the same way, which was why he never stopped Ben, just watched me with a complicated expression. He wanted me to know what he had sacrificed for me. Everyone knew Layla was the one he truly loved. I was just the villain who had stood in their way, ungrateful for what I had.

Get out, Ben. This is between me and your sister-in-law, Vincent mumbled, his eyes fluttering open. He called me that, even though Bens wife was my friend, not his.

Ben looked like he wanted to argue, but Vincents next words froze him in place.

Layla, I regret it. Dont leave me. Dont marry him.

He grabbed my sleeve, his grip surprisingly strong. I cant do it. I cant watch you have children with another man

It was the first time I had ever seen him cry like this. His sobs were choked and broken, like the sound of a snapped string on an old cello. He mistook me for her.

When they were together, everyone had called Layla the missus. Theyd stopped after he came back, probably to avoid hurting my feelings.

Ben looked at me with pity. Are you happy now? You used your dead child to tie him to you, and now neither of you is happy. Is this the life you wanted?

I smiled politely. Yes. This is exactly what I wanted. Seeing them both miserable makes me very happy.

You should have died on that hospital bed with your baby!

Ben stormed out, leaving me alone with Vincent.

He was still clutching my sleeve. I sat down on the edge of his bed and slapped him hard across the face.

Are you awake now?

They all wanted me dead. But I was determined to live wellbetter than any of them.

His cheek was already turning red. Sophie? Why am I in the hospital?

Laylas getting married. You were upset, so you and Ben went drinking. You ended up with a bleeding ulcer.

I took out my phone and played a recording of his drunken rambling, including Bens tirade. You still cant forget her, I stated.

The color drained from his face. Why dont you care about my health anymore? When I was sick before, you carried me to the hospital yourself in a storm. Your heels were bleeding.

I was surprised that was the first thing he thought of. It was a long time ago, before Layla.

That just proves how stupid I was back then. I should have just waited for a taxi, like today. Why suffer so much?

He looked down, ashamed. Im really over her. Tonight, I was just thinking about the past. I didnt know Ben was saying those things behind my back. I wont see him anymore.

I cut him off. Sign this. I handed him the purchase agreement for the penthouse. Youve already failed me emotionally. The least you can do is not fail me financially.

He took the pen and paper, a familiar routine. But his hand paused before he signed, the pressure of the pen nearly tearing the page. Is this all we have left to talk about?

Ever since he had come back, I had moved my things into the guest room. His study was filled with gifts from Layla, and I never said a word. We were like strangers living under the same roof. The only time I showed him any warmth was when I needed him to spend money.

Why won't you forgive me, after everything Ive done? What more do I have to do to make you like you were before?

I nodded. If you heard that I had drunk myself into the hospital on our anniversary because my ex-lover was getting married, and you could remain as calm as I am right now, then I would forgive you.

Im sorry.

I looked at the signature on the contract, satisfied. I couldnt bring myself to say, Its okay.

He pressed his advantage, placing his hand over mine, his eyes pleading. Lets have a baby.

Bens wife is already on their second.

A cynical smile touched my lips. Of all the times to bring this up. It was because Layla was about to start a family with someone else. Thats why he wanted a child now.

I pulled my hand away. No.

Im not as heartless as you. You may not remember, but I will never forget our child. No other baby could ever replace him. And I would never have another child with him.

If you really want a child

No, he said, pulling me into a desperate hug, as if afraid I would disappear. We dont need one. Just the two of us is fine. Well be together forever.

Vincent was restless that night. He insisted on coming home from the hospital, even though he should have been resting. I knew it was because Laylas wedding was tomorrow. He was afraid I would cause a scene, so he was keeping me under surveillance. Even though he didnt want her to marry someone else, he still wanted her to be happy. He was always so good to her.

When we got home, he saw the empty, clean dining table and froze. Sophie, its our anniversary. Wheres the dinner you made?

Why did you drink yourself into the hospital? I snapped. You werent going to eat it, so I gave it to the stray dogs.

He stared at the table in silence.

I was tired. I went to take a shower, not bothering to decipher his mood.

In the early days, when he was just starting his business, his eating habits were terrible, and he developed stomach problems. From then on, I cooked every meal for him, even bringing lunch to his office to make sure he ate. Then Layla came along, and he started standing me up, one time after another. I would reheat his dinner over and over until it was mush. He would come home, see the cold food on the table, and offer a simple, Sorry, I already ate. Id throw the food in the trash. I stopped saving him dinner after that.

But it seemed he was only just now noticing.

When I came out of the shower, he was waiting with a glass of warm water. Were husband and wife. We cant keep sleeping in separate rooms.

Thank you, but no.

You always have a glass of warm water after your shower. I measured the temperature. Its just how you like it.

That cup is part of a matching set you bought with Layla.

I met his gaze directly. I accidentally broke your cup once. Layla was furious. You didnt come home for a month. I lost ten pounds. When you finally came back, you asked if I had learned my lesson. This is the second one she bought you. You specifically told me never to touch it, that I was not to disrespect Laylas feelings.

He flinched and quickly put the cup down. I forgot. He looked at me hesitantly.

What is it?

Are you going to see the new place tomorrow?

When I nodded, he seemed to relax. Im free. Ill go with you.

I snorted silently. He would do anything to make sure I didnt crash Laylas wedding.

Fine.

He seemed thrilled.

I dont know if it was what Ben said earlier, but that night, I kept dreaming of the child I lost. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I was about to get up for some fresh air when a pair of warm hands wrapped around my waist from behind.

I smelled alcohol. A wave of revulsion washed over me, and I shot out of bed.

Vincent, are you serious? Laylas getting married, so you cant keep it in your pants and you decide to come to me? The anger Id suppressed for years flared up, and I couldn't hide the loathing on my face.

My expression seemed to burn him. I just think its time for us to move on to the next stage. To turn the page.

I smiled. Alright.

Before he could react, I unlocked my phone and showed him the screen. How many children do you want? We can go to the orphanage tomorrow.

The photos were of blind, deaf, and disfigured orphans.

Cheating, emotional abuse, shirking responsibility, I said. Im afraid any child we have will learn from you. Only the ones with no eyes to see would want to be in our family.

He was silent.

Get out, I said. Dont disgust me.

I pushed him out and locked the door.