For Happiness

We had been together for three years.

I noticed early on that all of his social media handles were set to April.

I thought he simply loved the gentle, romantic arrival of spring, so I never pried.

Until our wedding day, when a gorgeous gift arrived from his ex. The name signed on the card in elegant cursive was Avril.

In that single, devastating second, the truth hit me. He did not love the month of April. He loved Avril.

My heart plummeted into a cold, dark abyss.

At my wedding to Owen, a girl in a white dress had clearly had too many drinks.

Owens face darkened as he grabbed her arm. "Stop making a scene."

She ignored him, her glassy eyes locking onto me. "Hey, I heard you're pregnant. Have you picked out a name yet?"

I instinctively touched my belly, offering a gentle smile. "We're going to call her April."

"April." Her laughter grew louder, bordering on hysterical, until tears slipped down her cheeks. "How can you name her April? He already threw April away."

My smile froze.

The air in the room turned to ice. It was Luke, Owen's best friend, who finally broke the suffocating silence.

"Nora, my college buddy here is completely wasted. I'll get her back to her hotel."

After they left, I couldn't help but look at Owen, my voice carrying a tentative edge. "Owen, who was she?"

Owen looked back at me, his expression perfectly calm, without a single hint of guilt. "Just an old classmate."

I wanted to press further, but he quickly cut me off, changing the subject.

"Sweetheart, our biggest client is completely hammered. I need to go check on him."

"Okay," I whispered, the rest of my questions dying in my throat.

I watched him hurry away, a cold, inexplicable dread tightening in my chest.

My best friend, Becca, walked into the bridal suite holding an elegant gift box.

She tossed it onto the table in front of me, her voice dripping with disgust. "Nora, your rival left this behind."

"My... rival?" My heart skipped a beat, and the image of the girl in the white dress flashed in my mind, draining the remaining color from my face.

"The girl who was sobbing her eyes out earlier," Becca said, rolling her eyes. "Crying over someone else's groom like that. Shameless."

My anxiety spiraled.

Becca patted my shoulder gently to reassure me. "Don't stress too much. Owen is famous for worshiping the ground you walk on. He'd never do anything to hurt you."

She was right. Owen pampered me to no end.

Everyone in our circle said I was the luckiest woman alive, that I had married for true love.

I shouldn't doubt him.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to shake off the unease. I chatted with Becca while mindlessly tracing the ribbon on the gift box.

Then, my eyes caught the silver script on the card.

I leaned in to look closer. Her name was Avril.

Avril. April.

The realization struck me like a physical blow. My mind went blank, my posture collapsed, and I slumped against the vanity.

My entire world turned pitch black.

"Nora, why are you crying? You're scaring me!"

"Where is Owen? Help me find Owen. I need to see him. I need to see him right now."

"Okay, okay, I'll call him. You're pregnant, Nora, please don't cry like this."

My hands shook so violently that I could barely hand my phone to Becca.

I needed to know where he was. My voice trembled beyond recognition.

"FaceTime him."

Becca nodded and dialed, but Owen instantly declined the call.

I clutched the lace of my veil, tilting my head back as tears escaped my eyes. "Call him again."

After several declined video calls, Owen finally dialed back with a voice call.

His voice sounded muffled and tense. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"Where are you?" The dam broke, and my emotions spilled over.

"I'm..." He hesitated for a fraction of a second before deflecting. "I'll be back soon."

"Are you at her hotel? You went to find her, didn't you?"

The words caught in my throat. I slid down against the wall, clutching my knees. "Owen, please just tell me. Who is Avril?"

The line went dead silent.

I held my chest and sobbed, gasping for air until my throat burned and no more tears would come.

I felt incredibly pathetic.

On my wedding day, my husband's first love had shown up, and he had abandoned his bride to run to her hotel room.

What was even worse was that we had been together for three years.

Every single one of his online accounts was named April.

Even when I got pregnant and asked him what we should name the baby, he had answered without a second thought. "April."

I had wondered if the month held some special, romantic meaning for him, but I respected his privacy and never forced him to explain.

Only today did I learn that his beloved ex was named Avril.

How could he comfortably use my child to memorialize his lost love?

What did I represent in Owen's heart?

What did our three years together even mean?

If he hadn't cleared her out of his heart, why did he choose to be with me?

What did I do wrong?

Half an hour later, Owen burst into the room, drenched in sweat.

He asked Becca to leave so we could talk alone.

"What is there to talk about?" I raised my swollen, bloodshot eyes to meet his.

He knelt in front of me, his voice devoid of any real emotion. "Avril is my ex."

"How long were you together?"

"Seven years."

"How long have you been apart?"

"Four years."

"Do you still love her?"

Owen didn't answer.

His silence was his confession.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, turning into fresh tears. "Why did you both do this to me? She couldn't let you go, so she ruined my wedding. You couldn't let her go, so you abandoned me to find her. Owen, what did I ever do to deserve being collateral damage in your love story?"

I yanked at my veil, trying to tear it off my head.

"Stop hurting yourself, okay?" Owen pressed his lips into a hard line, catching my hands. "Nothing happened between us. I only went to make sure she was safe."

I stared at him, stunned by how casually he could justify his betrayal.

"So every time she cries, you're going to abandon me and run to her side?" I screamed.

Owen fell silent again.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

"We are already married. Just pretend this never happened."

My vision blurred, and a sharp, stabbing pain flared in my chest, quickly replaced by a wave of furious indignation.

Did he honestly believe this wedding was some sort of charitable gift to me?

I didn't want it. I didn't want any of it.

I stumbled back against the wall, pale, cold sweat breaking out.

The baby in my womb, as if sensing my agony, gave a tiny, desperate flutter. But the pain that ripped through me was unbearable.

I clutched my stomach, my heart drowning in grief. This is your very first kick, my baby. How could it happen at a time like this?

Owen frowned, reaching out to help me up.

I shrieked, pushing his hands away. "Don't touch me! You're filthy!"

"Don't do this, please," Owen said, his eyes lingering on my stomach as he sighed. "I don't want us to split up. Really."

His words only made me feel sick.

He was absolutely repulsive.

If I had never met him, I could have had a clean, honest love. I could have been genuinely happy.

He had ruined everything.

I grabbed my phone and threw it hard against his chest. "The wedding is over. We are getting a divorce."

Owen froze. A few seconds later, his face hardened, and his voice took on a mocking edge. "You grew up with a single mother, Nora. Do you really think your mom is going to support you divorcing while pregnant?"

I never imagined Owen would use my family background as a weapon to hurt me.

My heart felt as if it were being carved into a thousand pieces, chewed up and discarded.

I buried my face in my hands and wept until my throat was hoarse.

I didn't even notice when he left.

After that day, Owen and I entered a freezing cold war.

I packed my things and moved back to my mother's apartment.

As Owen had pointed out, I was raised by a single mother.

Before my father passed away, my mother had lived through a lonely, emotionally vacant marriage, which made her entirely incapable of empathizing with my pain.

When Owen came to the apartment to pick me up, she couldn't wait to push me out the door.

"Owen is giving you an olive branch, Nora. Just take it and go home," my mother urged, hovering outside my bedroom door. "Stop hiding in there. Come out."

"Mom, please," I begged through the wood. "Just tell him to leave."

"You are pregnant! What are you throwing a tantrum for? You just have to swallow your pride and live with it."

"I can't. I won't just swallow this."

"Marriage is all about turning a blind eye." She pushed the door open, her expression softening slightly when she saw my swollen eyes. "Besides, it's not like Owen actually slept with her."

She didn't understand.

Emotional infidelity was far more vicious than physical betrayal.

"We've been together for three years," I whispered, the weight of the realization crushing my chest. "He sleeps next to me while dreaming of another woman. What am I to him?"

"You just overthink everything. Let me make one thing clear: no matter how much you fight, don't you dare think about divorce. I won't have you embarrassing me."

For the first time in my life, I defied her. "I am divorcing him."

My mother looked at me with deep disappointment. "At the end of the day, it's your own fault for not being enough. If you were perfect, Owen wouldn't be pining after his ex."

"Mom!" I screamed, covering my ears. "Please stop. I beg you, just stop talking!"

A suffocating wave of injustice flooded my chest.

I hadn't done anything wrong.

Why was everyone pointing their fingers at me?

In the end, I was forced to return to the house with Owen.

Once we were inside our bedroom, he shoved his phone into my hand. "Look through it yourself. We haven't had any contact since the breakup."

I didn't take the phone. I only let out a cold laugh. "Does an empty chat history mean she isn't in your heart?"

Owen didn't answer.

He gripped his phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

After a long silence, his face darkened as he opened his messaging app and searched for Avrils name.

The most recent interaction was in a group chat with their old college friends.

Owen had posted: I'm getting married.

His classmates, knowing their history, immediately asked: Why didn't Avril mention anything?

Owen replied: It's not her.

The group chat had fallen dead silent.

A few minutes later, Avril tagged him: Congratulations! I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world.

He hadn't declined.

He had simply replied: Okay.

On our wedding day, Avril had indeed shown up, sitting in the audience in a white gown that looked exactly like a wedding dress.

During our vows, Owen's voice had cracked with emotion.

At the time, Becca had nudged me in envy. Nora, you really found a good one. Owen actually cried during his vows. He's so deeply in love with you.

Thinking back on it now, I wanted to laugh.

Owen's acting was flawless.

Everyone assumed he was crying because he was thinking of our three years of beautiful memories.

But he was actually staring past me, devastated by the sight of Avril weeping in the crowd.

"Are you satisfied now? I told you, Avril and I are completely innocent," Owen's voice pulled me back to reality.

I closed my eyes, about to tell him to get out, when his phone rang. It was Luke.

Luke's voice sounded panicked through the speaker. "Owen, Avril was just rushed to the hospital."

Owen stiffened, his eyes darting to me with a complex mix of guilt and urgency. "I need to go out for a bit."

We weren't even divorced yet.

How could he brazenly run to another woman right in front of me?

I grabbed his arm, my grip frantic and desperate. "Owen, I am forbidding you from going."

Owen pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, his voice laced with annoyance. "Can't you be sensible like you used to be? Why are you being so unreasonable?"

I let go of his arm, walked over, and flung the bedroom door open. "Get out."