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Sorry,Nathan.
I can’t wake up to divorce you now. But my death makes you a widower—no need for any more paperwork.You should be happy,right?
I don’t understand.
Why are you crying so bitterly, as if you’ve been flayed alive?
It’s laughable.
Anyone would think you’re mourning the loss of a beloved wife. I turned away,unwilling to watch his crocodile tears.
He panicked and rushed me to the hospital, sprinting from the entrance to the ER, clutching my lifeless body. “Doctor,save my wife!She passed out,bleeding heavily.”
His voice trembled.
The doctor declared my body rigid - I was gone. His eyes widened in disbelief. “No,doctor.She just fainted from blood loss.Save her,please.”
The doctor adjusted his glasses.“Your wife bled due to a miscarriage.She died suddenly, after losing the baby." Nathan sank to his knees.
“Claire,why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant…”
I knew that grief well.
It was the same when Grace passed away. But I remembered his harsh, mocking words from my lifetime.
The moment I knelt to plead.
My nose stung,knees aching reflexively,pain spreading to my heart.
He crawled to the doctor,clutching his pant leg,pleading earnestly..
“Doctor,please save her.I’ll pay anything.Please.”
The doctor composed himself.“Calm down.I understand your sorrow,but your wife has developed rigor mortis on her abdomen and neck.She’s truly gone.My condolences.”
Nathan’s hand dropped, as if he could hold onto nothing.
“Rigor mortis...?”
“Is she really gone?”
“Don't leave me, please don't die.”
Hours ago, he was ruthlessly demanding a divorce. Now he acted like he couldn’t live without me.
Are men so fickle?
“Women are so unpredictable,”Nathan once said,holding a plate of potato fries,torn between amusement and sorrow. In college,he went all out to win me over.
Learning I liked potatoes,he spent a week cooking different potato dishes every day. Dry-pot potatoes,spicy potato strips,cheesy baked potatoes…
But I turned them all down.
“I don’t get it.I offered you a Hermès bag daily,and you refused.They say women who aren’t materialistic are swayed by details.Don’t you love potatoes?I learned so many recipes,but now you don’t like them? Women are so unpredictable.”
Puzzled,I asked,“Who told you I love potatoes?”
He blurted out,“Your sister,Grace!”
I almost couldn't help but chuckle.
Having grown up in an orphanage, I couldn't stand potatoes. Clearly,Grace disapproved of my suitor,Nathan.
I pushed the plate away with a frown.“Nathan,we’re from different worlds.I’m an orphan,you’re born with a silver spoon.I know I’m pretty,but we’re not equals.”
He dismissed the notion of social status matching with a scoff. “What a load of nonsense! Forget those outdated rules!”
