Life Rebooted After the Divorce

Charlie and I were married for three years. Everyone thought I loved him deeply. I would pack his bags before business trips and drive him to the airport. When he was drunk, I prepared an antidote for him, even when I saw lipstick stains on his shirt, I didn't ask questions. When he was sick, I put aside my work and stayed by his side 24 hours a day. People around me said I was a good wife. But despite my efforts, he stayed silent when his mother embarrassed me in public at a family gathering. I recall his mother's words clearly: "If you can't bear Charlie's child, then you are not welcome at our family gatherings!" I also remember the ugly faces of Charlie's relatives at the party, those who pretended not to hear, those who watched, and those who gloated, all wearing masks of indifference. At the party, all eyes were on me. I was too embarrassed to say a word. I gave Charlie a look for help, hoping to enlist his support. But he just cut his steak and held it gracefully in his mouth. On the drive home, I confronted him: "You don't want kids, why don't you tell your mom the truth?" He sat in his seat, squinting and pretending to be asleep, and didn't answer me. I couldn't help but lose my temper, and I braked hard enough that he hit his head on the front seat. He opened his eyes and glared at me. He yelled, "My God, Leila, what are you doing?" I feigned innocence: "Sorry, the car ahead of me stopped suddenly. It was unintentional." He sighed: "I know I've been ignoring your feelings lately, and I'll make it up to you when I'm done with the work at hand." Every time something like this happened, Charlie said the same words, but never really made amends.