My Husband Had Me Arrested Ten Times

At the police station, my husband Ethan's mistress sobbed like she was the victim:

She attacked me, Ethan. It hurts so bad.

Ethan didn't say a word in my defense.

He just wrapped his arms around her and walked out.

I was held for three days. The first text I got when I got out was:

Stay away from Wendy. You're still my wife.

I couldn't accept it.

For six months I kept fighting back, and he personally had me sent to the station nine times.

Then came the tenth time. He came to pick me up himself.

He saw the bruises and cuts covering my body, and the corner of his mouth curved up in a smirk.

"Learned your lesson yet, Jess? Your family's bankrupt. You're not daddy's little princess anymore."

He even took a few steps back like he was disgusted, bracing himself for me to throw my arms around him and cry like I used to.

But I felt nothing. I just calmly slid into the back seat.

The front passenger seat belonged to Wendy now. That was just how things were.

A flicker of surprise crossed Ethan's face, then settled into a satisfied smile.

"When we get home, apologize to Wendy properly. I'll get that nursery set up like you asked."

My body went stiff. My hand drifted to my stomach without thinking.

He didn't know. The baby was already gone lost the day I was locked up.

A dead baby has no use for a nursery.

And I had no more use for him.

Seeing me stay quiet, he reached into his pocket and tossed a jewelry box onto my lap like it was nothing.

"Your anniversary necklace. Got it back for you."

"Isn't that what you were throwing a fit about? Wendy just wanted to borrow it for a couple days. Don't be so petty."

I slowly raised my eyes, and it took me a long moment to remember that a month ago had been our wedding anniversary.

That same day, he'd taken me up the mountain to watch the sunrise.

It was well below freezing. The middle of the night. And he left me there alone all because Wendy had a bad dream.

He abandoned me on that mountain. Didn't come back for the entire night.

The anniversary gift meant for me ended up around Wendy's neck instead.

Even now, I could still feel that bone-deep cold crawling up my spine.

And he thought I was upset over a necklace.

I opened the box. The ruby that had once glowed with a deep, rich red was dull and lifeless now. The chain was spotted with rust.

It was obvious. This was a fake.

I pushed the box back toward him.

"Keep it. She can have it if she likes it."

My tone was distant, and Ethan's expression darkened.

He started to say something, then glanced down at the cheap knockoff in his hand. A brief flash of embarrassment crossed his face.

"Wendy must have grabbed the wrong one by accident. I'll get you a new one."

Then he let out a fond, indulgent little laugh.

"She grew up without much. Doesn't know the difference between a real one and a fake. Don't be too hard on her."

The way he defended her was so obvious it was almost insulting.

The old me would have flipped out right there in the car.

But I just smiled along and nodded.

"Right. Hard to know better when you've never had much to begin with."

Ethan blinked, caught off guard by how calm I was.

Then he turned and reached back to ruffle my hair.

"Why are you being so reasonable today? Finally coming around?"

"As long as you stop going after Wendy, I'll get you whatever you want."

"Everything in this family will be yours and the baby's someday. You don't need to fight with her. Learn to be the bigger person."

"I'll have the nursery done by next month. This week's just a little busy."

I turned my head slightly and let his hand fall away without making it obvious.

This weekend was Wendy's birthday.

No matter what, her things always came first.

"Forget the nursery. Just drive. I'm tired."

We'd been on the road for a little while when Ethan's phone went off.

Loud and shrill the ringtone he'd set just for Wendy.

My brow tightened before I could stop it. My stomach turned.

For the past six months, that ringtone had been the sound of my nightmares.

At all hours, without pause, filling the house never letting me rest.

Wendy was like a grown child who couldn't function without Ethan. Power went out in the house. Thunder rumbled outside. A delivery driver glanced at her a second too long.

She'd dissolve into tears and beg Ethan to come be with her.

It was such a cheap, obvious act. And Ethan ate it up every single time.

How many times had I cried and begged him not to go?

He'd just give me that flat, cold look and say:

"Grow up. Wendy's not like you. She's sensitive. She gets scared easily."

He'd forgotten that this "sensitive little thing" he was always making excuses for was six years older than me.

Through the phone, Wendy's crying came through loud and clear.

"Ethan, I was trying to make a welcome-home dinner for Jess tomorrow. I'm so clumsy I cut my hand while I was prepping."

"Don't cry. I'm on my way." His voice went tight with urgency.

"No, take Jess home first. I'll be fine on my own. It's just there's so much blood. I'm scared."

The word blood made him slam the brakes. The sudden stop threw my body hard into the seat.

The impact hit my injuries. I clenched my teeth against the pain.

He was already starting to turn the car around. Then he remembered I was in the back seat.

"Jess, maybe you could"

"Go. I'll get a cab."

I didn't wait for him to finish. I pulled the door open and stepped out.

I walked to the curb and raised my hand for a ride, unbothered.

Ethan hesitated, watching me for a moment, like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

Then Wendy's crying pulled at him, and he pressed the gas and drove away.

I got home, showered, and changed.

My phone lit up. A text from Wendy.

"Jess, what do you want to eat tomorrow? I'll make it for you."

"Don't worry I definitely won't mess it up this time. After all, it's not like you have a baby to lose anymore, right?"

"No matter how much you fight back, Ethan always takes my side. Pathetic."

"If I were you, I would've asked for a divorce a long time ago."

My fingers hovered over the screen. The memories hit like a wave.

A month ago, I came down from the mountain and walked through our front door.

Wendy was sitting on the living room couch.

She was wearing my silk pajamas. Around her neck was the ruby necklace that was supposed to be mine.

Something snapped in me. I flew at her and grabbed a fistful of her hair.

I never landed a single blow. My arm was wrenched back, and Ethan's palm cracked hard across my face.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jess!"

I hadn't even touched Wendy, and they locked me up for three days.

On the other side of the wall, every night, I could hear her.

She was doing it on purpose. Loud enough to make sure I heard every sound.

No matter how hard I pounded on the door. No matter how I screamed.

Ethan ignored it. He would change positions just to make her louder.

That was his punishment for me.

Three days. I came close to losing my mind.

When I pushed open the window and thought about stepping off the ledge, the baby moved inside me.

It was the only thing that brought me back.

I still had my baby. I wasn't going to give up.

But what I didn't expect was that the very next day after I was let out, Wendy slipped abortion pills into my breakfast.

I hemorrhaged. By the time I understood what was happening, it was already over.

The baby was gone.

I completely fell apart. I grabbed a knife and went straight to the small restaurant Wendy ran.

I destroyed the place. I stood out front and told every neighbor, every passerby exactly what she was the other woman who'd been tearing apart a marriage.

I faced her with tears burning in my eyes and screamed, "Was it you? Why did you do this? Why did you kill my baby?"

She just stood there shaking and kept repeating:

"I didn't mean to... don't accuse me of something I didn't do."

The knife was still in my hand, not yet raised, when the police arrived and pinned me down.

Ethan showed up minutes later. He didn't look at me once. He went straight to Wendy, gathered her in his arms, and kept murmuring comfort into her hair.

He never asked her a single question about what she'd done.

When he finally looked at me, his face was full of disappointment, his eyes like ice.

"You hate her that much? You won't stop until you've completely destroyed her?"

"You can sit in a cell for a month this time. Learn some self-control."

While I was locked up, he arranged for a few of the other inmates to give me special attention.

I was beaten every day. Fresh bruises layered over old ones.

Through every blow, through every sleepless night, something inside me quietly went out.

I stopped wanting his love. I stopped wanting anything from him.

The memories faded. The taunting texts on my screen meant nothing to me anymore.

I tossed my phone aside and didn't reply.

---

I slept, and when I woke up, the smell of food was drifting through the house.

I stepped into the hallway. Wendy was sitting in Ethan's lap in the living room, holding a spoon to his lips, feeding him soup with exaggerated sweetness.

They were sharing bites, making a whole show of it.

Disgusting.

The sound of my door caught their attention.

Wendy jumped up like she'd been startled, putting on a look of wide-eyed alarm.

"Jess! We were just goofing around. Don't take it the wrong way."

Ethan watched me like he was waiting for me to explode and go for Wendy.

The old me would have upended that soup on both of them.

But my calm reaction unsettled him in a way he couldn't explain.

"You two continue. Pretend I'm not here."

I stepped around them and poured myself a glass of water.

After I finished, I turned to head back to my room.

Ethan caught my wrist. He searched my face like he was looking for something some flicker of the emotion he expected to find.

"When did you get home last night? Why didn't you text me?"

I pulled my hand free. The question struck me as almost absurd.

There was a time I couldn't stop texting him. Fifty messages a day, easily a hundred. Our whole chat history was a wall of green all from me.

Messages he'd answer when he felt like it and ignore when he didn't.

And now he had the nerve to ask why I hadn't texted.

I let out a short, flat laugh. "Didn't you tell me to stop bothering you unless it was important?"

He went quiet. A little guilty.

He had said that. He just hadn't expected me to actually listen. And now that I had, something about it didn't sit right with him though he couldn't say what.

"That's different..."

Wendy slipped her arm through his and cut through the moment.

"Ethan, Jess just got back. She's probably not in the best mood. Don't pile on with all the questions."

"I made food. Jess, come eat something."

She turned toward the kitchen, picking up a piece of fabric from the counter and bunching it in her fist to use as a pot holder.

The fabric unfolded at one corner, and I recognized it instantly.

It was my mother's embroidery.

My eyes went wide. I crossed the room in three steps and yanked it out of her hands.

The tug made Wendy lose her grip on the pot. Hot soup splashed across her hands.

She let out a sharp cry. Her eyes welled up immediately, tears spilling over.

"Jess, even if you don't want my food, you didn't have to do that."

"I've already apologized for everything. Why won't you just let it go?"

Ethan rushed to her side and cradled her reddened hands in his, his voice low and worried.

"Does it hurt?"

Wendy leaned into him and kept crying.

"I don't understand why she keeps treating me like this. My hands are just good for cooking I'm not some pampered heiress like her. But that doesn't mean I deserve to be humiliated."

He soothed her in low tones. Then he turned to me, and the warmth in his face disappeared.

"Jess, have you lost your mind? Are you trying to seriously hurt her?"

I didn't answer him. I was looking at the embroidery in my hands.

It was ruined. Stained through with grease, the fabric fraying in pieces. There was no fixing it.

I made myself breathe. Steadied myself.

Then I held it out flat in front of Ethan, my voice not quite steady.

"Do you remember what this is?"

He glanced at it. His tone was impatient.

"It's an old piece of needlework. You seriously hurt Wendy over that?"

I laughed, and it came out cold.

He'd forgotten.

This was the last piece my mother ever embroidered before she passed. Two swans. Her final blessing for our marriage.

She had held my hand at the end and said:

"Jess, Ethan is a good man. I can see how much he loves you."

"After I'm gone, he'll take care of you. I can rest easy knowing that."

After she died, my family fell apart. My father ran off with his girlfriend in the middle of the night, taking everything with him.

I was alone. An orphan with nothing.

Ethan was the one who took my hand and walked me out of that cold, empty house.

He said, "Don't be scared, Jess. You still have me. I'll give you a home."

What we had back then was so vivid, so warm that I couldn't let go even as it rotted away around me.

But now, the two swans had been torn apart. Split by damage that couldn't be undone.

He and I had finally reached the end of the road.

"Are you just going to stand there? Apologize to Wendy."

The embroidery was ripped from my hands. I came back to the present.

I looked at the mess on the floor. Then at Wendy, still performing her tears beside him.

Her hands were barely pink.

The soup had been warm, not scalding.

I met his eyes. My voice was flat.

"Why should I apologize?"

"She's been the other woman in this marriage for years. Has she ever once apologized to me?"

"And you you've been cheating on me with someone who worked in our home. Have you apologized?"

"Or is this where you tell me that if I don't say sorry, you'll have me arrested again? Go ahead. How long this time?"

The directness of it stopped him cold. Even Wendy forgot to cry for a moment.

"You you never change! You're completely unreasonable!"

"I'm taking Wendy to get checked out. Clean this place up. We'll talk when I get back."

That was all he managed to say before he picked Wendy up and carried her toward the door.

I got to my room before he could say anything else and shut his voice out.

My phone lit up with a new email notification. My application for the Antarctic biological research expedition had been approved.

At the same moment, my phone rang. A friend.

"So? Did you get in?"

"Yeah. I got in."

"Yes! We're going to see penguins in Antarctica together! I kept trying to get you to join the overseas research team before and you always said no. What a waste of your talent. What finally changed your mind?"

I laughed at myself a little.

Seven years of marriage, and I'd almost forgotten that I used to be a serious biologist. A good one.

Back in college, I had a strong record several opportunities to work abroad came my way, but I turned them all down for Ethan's sake, every time.

In his eyes, I was always just a spoiled, stubborn girl with no real substance.

He never saw my work. Never acknowledged what I was capable of.

I used to tell myself he was just too busy. Now I understood the truth: he just didn't love me enough to look.

"Tell me everything when we meet up. See you at the airport tomorrow."

I hung up and bought a seat on the same flight as my friend.

Then I stopped by a law office and had a divorce agreement drawn up.

I hadn't even had a chance to bring it to Ethan before his call came in.

"Where are you? Come to my office. We need to talk."

I took a cab to his building. He was already sitting behind his desk with a document in front of him a divorce agreement.

"Jess, this weekend is Wendy's birthday. The things you said about her calling her what you called her in public it's affected her life."

"People in the neighborhood look at her differently now. You've done real damage to her emotionally."

"I've decided to have a small ceremony on her birthday. A symbolic wedding, just to counter the rumors."

"After one month, I'll end it, and we'll remarry. You'll always be my real wife. That will never change."

I nearly laughed out loud. He'd just saved me the trouble.

I picked up the pen and signed without a second thought.

Out of guilt, maybe, he'd been generous with the asset division.

My decisiveness made his own hand hesitate over the signature line.

"Jess... you've changed so much lately."

"I haven't given you enough attention. I know that. Once this is settled, let's go to the Maldives just the two of us before the baby comes. You used to always say you wanted to go."

Before I could respond, his phone rang again.

"Ethan, the dress just arrived and I don't know how to put it on. Can you come help me?"

"I'll be right there, sweetheart."

He paused at the door and looked back at me.

"One month, Jess. Wait for me."

I said nothing.

He signed the paper and left in a hurry.

I went home, packed everything that mattered to me into a single suitcase, and headed straight for the airport.

Inside the terminal, my friend Lisa spotted me and waved from across the crowd.

The plane lifted into the air, and everything below it fell away.

Ethan. I'm done waiting.