His Secret Wedding Photo, I Left Him

Chapter 3

"Lily! Lily!"

My parents' anxious voices echoed in my ears. When they saw me wake up, the two of them broke down crying tears of relief.

"Thank God the neighbor called the police in time. Any later, and we would have lost you," mom exclaimed.

"What were you thinking, kid? How could you be that reckless? You left soup cooking on the stove and fell asleep? That could have killed you!" Dad added.

My voice was hoarse when I spoke, "Was Sean not home when it happened?"

My parents stared at me, confused.

"When the firefighters broke down the door, they said you were the only one in the house. If Sean had been home, this never would have happened. He's way more careful than you are."

Their words twisted the knife already buried in my chest, stoking the bitter ache in my heart to a fever pitch.

Sean really was a meticulous man. Over the eight years we had been together, he remembered my cycle better than I did. Every time my period was about to come, he would strictly forbid me from eating anything cold or raw. He would always stock the bathroom ahead of time with regular pads, overnight pads, and period underwear, all laid out and ready for me.

It was impossible to believe that a man this thorough would just leave a pot of soup cooking on a lit stove and walk out the door. What kind of person, what kind of emergency, could be that important to him?

Before I could finish the thought, the hospital room door slammed open with a loud bang. Sean came sprinting straight for my bed, gasping for air.

"Lily! Are you okay?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he slapped himself hard across the face, a sharp c***k ringing out. "This is all my fault. I can't believe I let you get into something this dangerous..."

He had rushed over in such a hurry that he did not notice the bright, unhidden hickey on his neck.

"Whatever was so important must have been Jessica, right?" I said, my tone sharp with sarcasm. "Is the research institute that slack? They let people yank you out of work whenever they feel like it? Guess all you top academics don't actually throw yourselves into your work as much as everyone says, huh?"

My parents were totally confused, having no clue who I was talking about. But all the blood drained from Sean's face in a split second. The man who was always so proud and arrogant did something that shocked every single person in the room. His knees buckled, and he thudded to the floor right in front of my hospital bed.

"Lily, you can be mad at me all you want, take out all your anger on me however you want, but don't go making trouble for Jessica at her workplace. She has no parents, no family. It's taken everything for her to get this far and land a stable job. At the end of the day, this is all my fault. Don't take it out on her, okay?"

Before I could even open my mouth to respond, my dad kicked him hard in the chest.

"You bastard! Now I get it. You're cheating on her? Do you even remember what you said when you begged me to let you marry Lily? My daughter's a dance major, yeah, not some fancy top scholar like you, but she sure as hell doesn't have to take your garbage lying down!"

Worried my dad would blow a gasket and make himself sick, I cut in quickly to stop him.

"Dad, at the end of the day, this is between Sean and me. Let us sort it out ourselves."

Then I turned my gaze to Sean. "I was actually planning to send an anonymous report to Jessica's company. We were husband and wife once, so since you're speaking up for her, I won't make a huge fuss over this.

"Sign the divorce agreement, and we'll go file for divorce at the courthouse tomorrow. If you don't show up? That report letter will land on their desk first thing."

Staring down at my ultimatum, Sean hesitated for a long, drawn-out moment. In the end, he picked up the pen and scrawled his signature across the page.

The next day, as we stood right outside the courthouse, Sean kept harping on at me to reconsider. But I knew my resolve to get divorced was far firmer than my resolve to marry him all those years ago.

Once the divorce was finalized, I threw my personal belongings into a few bags and moved back in with my parents.

Two days later, a text from an unknown number pinged on my phone.

Unknown: I'm waiting for you at the café right outside the gate of State University at 2 p.m.

The tone was blunt and straight to the point, and she had picked State University as the meeting spot. Even with no sender name, it was obvious who was behind the message.

I showed up at the café sharp at two, and Jessica was already sitting at a table, deep in a book. It looked like she had been waiting quite a while.

I pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She looked up immediately, clearly startled to see me.