On our third wedding anniversary, Ethan and I got into a car crash. When the truck lost control and slammed into us, Ethan's first instinct was to shield the passenger seat. He held Chloe tightly in his arms, protecting her with his life. I was in the back seat, my lower abdomen pinned by the deformed metal. The pain was so agonizing that my breath shook. When the rescue team arrived, Ethan had already smashed the passenger door open, carrying Chloe out. A firefighter shone a flashlight into the car and yelled, "Is there anyone else inside?" Ten minutes before the crash, Ethan had personally closed the back door for me. I tried my best to raise my hand, wanting to tap on the window. But through the shattered glass, I heard his hoarse voice reply, "No. No one else." "Take her to the hospital first. She's always been terrified of pain. She can't handle any shock." My hand froze in mid-air. When Chloe was lifted onto the stretcher, she only had a shallow scratch on her wrist from the glass. Yet Ethan held her hand tightly, looking like he had just recovered his most precious treasure. "Don't be scared. I'm here." From beginning to end, he never once looked back at the smoking car. Later, when the firefighters dragged me out of the back seat, my skirt was already soaked in blood. The doctor looked at my chart, his face darkening instantly. "Why did you bring her in so late?" "Her abdomen suffered severe trauma. We need to operate immediately." The nurse held the consent form and asked me, "Where is your family?" I looked toward the ward not far away. Chloe's scratch was so shallow it didn't even need stitches. But Ethan was guarding her bedside, his eyes red as he forced the doctor to examine her for the third time. I suddenly let out a soft laugh. "I don't have any family here. I'll sign it myself."
After the surgery, I was wheeled back to the ward. The anesthesia wore off slowly. But the pain came back fast. My abdomen felt like it was being sliced open repeatedly with a knife. I didn't even dare to breathe too hard. The doctor stood by my bed, his voice very gentle. "We couldn't save the baby." "It will be very difficult for you to get pregnant again in the future." I stared at the medical report. The words on it were clear. But I stared at them for a long time, unable to process what they meant. So I had been pregnant. And that child never even got a chance to be known by their father. In the next ward, Ethan's voice was more frantic than the doctor's. "Will her wrist scar? Did it damage her tendons? Check it again!" The doctor explained patiently, "Mr. Vance, it's just a scratch. It doesn't even need stitches." But Ethan wouldn't let it go. "She's been sensitive to pain since she was a kid. Don't be careless." I turned my head away. Through the half-open door, I saw Chloe sitting on the hospital bed. She had a small Band-Aid on her wrist. Ethan was bending over, holding her hand, his eyes filled with intense worry. The nurse came over to change my dressing. The moment she peeled off the gauze, my fingers trembled from the pain. She stopped. "Where is your husband? Have him come in and support you." I looked at the room next door. Ethan was softly coaxing Chloe to drink some water. "He's not here." The nurse was stunned. She looked at the wedding ring on my finger, then at Ethan in the next room. "Isn't that man your husband?" I pulled my hand back under the blanket. The edge of the ring dug painfully into my palm. It hurt. "No. He's the family member of the patient next door." The nurse didn't ask further. She just made her movements much gentler. After a long time, Ethan finally came out of the room. He stood by my bed. Seeing how pale I was, he frowned slightly. "How are you feeling?" I was about to hand him the medical report. But Chloe called out from next door. "Ethan!" His gaze shifted instantly. That belated bit of concern was pulled back before it could even reach me. "Get some rest first," he said. He turned and went right back to her. I crumpled the report in my hand. I suddenly remembered the day we got married three years ago. Chloe had just rejected Ethan. She told him she only saw him as a brother. Ethan stood in the pouring rain all night. The next day, he came to see me. His voice was incredibly hoarse. "Don't you like me? Let's give it a try." Back then, I thought I had finally waited long enough. I even secretly bought a bouquet of flowers. A small bouquet of baby's breath. I held it tightly as we went to the courthouse. But Ethan never looked at those flowers. When we took our marriage photo, he didn't smile either. The photographer had to remind him three times. Only then did he force a faint tug at the corner of his lips. I comforted myself back then. He was just hurt. People can slowly learn to love someone else. But three years had passed. Did he move on? No. The only one trapped in this marriage was me. Late at night, the lights in the next ward were still on. Ethan stayed by Chloe's side while she slept. He tucked her in, adjusted the AC, and placed a cup of water right by her hand. I had post-surgery bleeding. I had to press the call button to get the nurse myself. While the nurse was changing my sheets, my phone buzzed with a payment notification. Chloe's full checkups, the VIP suite, and her meals were all paid for by Ethan. My surgery fee, however, was paid with my own card. I looked at the payment screen. Suddenly, I felt so tired. It turned out a marriage could be split so cleanly. Where his heart was, that was where his money went. I folded the abortion report and stuffed it into my bag. Then I opened my phone. I logged into our company's relocation system. In the relocation application reason, I wrote only four words: *Will follow any transfer.*
I was discharged the next day. Ethan personally wheeled Chloe downstairs. Chloe looked glowing. She sat in the wheelchair, wearing his jacket. A thin layer of gauze was wrapped around her wrist. She looked more like a delicate piece of porcelain than a patient. I held onto the wall, slowly following behind them. Every step sent a sharp pain through my abdomen, making my vision go dark. The nurse ran out and called after us. "Mrs. Vance, you just had surgery. It's best if your husband supports you." Ethan paused. He looked back at me. I looked at him too. Chloe cleared her throat softly. Ethan immediately looked down at her. "Are you cold? Do you want another jacket?" In the end, his glance only brushed past me. In the parking lot, the driver opened the door. The back seat was piled high with Chloe's flower baskets, supplements, and medical bags. A soft cushion was laid out on the passenger seat. Ethan had put it there himself for Chloe. I stood by the car, the cold wind blowing into my collar. The gauze on my stomach throbbed. I asked him, "Where do I sit?" Ethan buckled Chloe's seatbelt without looking up. "Take an Uber back." My phone vibrated. He had sent me two hundred dollars. The note read: *Stop making a scene.* Chloe sat in the front seat and said softly, "Maybe Elena should sit here? She doesn't look well." Ethan shut her door. "She's always been tough." *Always been tough.* So I could handle the pain. I could handle the bleeding. And I could handle losing our child. I suddenly remembered when we first started dating. Ethan held the steering wheel and told me, "This passenger seat is yours. Only you can sit here." I was so happy that day that I posted a picture of the car window on Snapchat. The caption read: *My exclusive spot.* Later, Chloe came back to the country. The first time she got into the car, she sat in the front. I asked Ethan why. He said she got car sick. He told me not to be petty. It turned out my "exclusive spot" was just a temporary loan while Chloe was away. And now. The passenger seat wasn't mine. There was no room for me in the back either. Just like the day of the crash. I was always put last. And I was always the one who could be forgotten. I took an Uber back to our house alone. The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror several times. "Miss, do you need me to take you to the ER?" I said no. There was no one waiting for me at the hospital anyway. When I got home, there was soup simmering in the kitchen. Wild mushroom chicken soup. Chloe's favorite. On the coffee table, her anxiety meds, heating pad, and pain patches were laid out neatly. Everything was perfectly prepared. My anti-inflammatory meds were still crumpled inside the hospital plastic bag. No one opened them. No one asked. No one even remembered I had just had surgery. That evening, Ethan came back. He brought a container of porridge. He set it in front of me. "Your sister couldn't finish it. Don't let it go to waste." The porridge was already lukewarm. I looked at the thin layer of skin forming on top and didn't touch it. Ethan frowned. "Your stomach is weak. Eat a little." I suddenly smiled. He actually remembered my stomach was weak. But remembering didn't stop him from handing me someone else's leftovers. Chloe's call came right at that moment. Ethan answered almost instantly. Her voice was soft and crying on the other end. "Ethan, I'm scared to sleep alone." Ethan had already picked up his car keys. "I'm coming over." I looked up at him. "Ethan." He stopped. I asked, "If I were the one scared tonight, would you rush over like this too?" He frowned. "Chloe just survived a car crash. Don't compare yourself to her at a time like this." The door shut. Only the cold porridge was left in the quiet house. I stared at it for a while. Then I opened my laptop and went to the relocation system. The button to confirm the transfer was glowing. I clicked it. *Transfer Confirmed.* The words on the screen were small. But they felt like a door opening right in front of me.
Three days after the crash, Ethan took me to the Vance family estate for dinner. He said Chloe was shaken up, and the family wanted to check on her. I had just finished surgery, and I still had to hold the walls to walk. Before we left, he looked at me. It wasn't out of concern. It was a warning. "Don't let the elders see you looking miserable." I lowered my head and wrapped my scarf. I didn't answer. The dinner table at the Vance estate was lively. Every dish was Chloe's favorite. Honey-glazed ribs. Sweet potato casserole. Sweet butternut squash soup. I couldn't eat sweet foods due to my stomach condition. Ethan knew this. In the past, when my stomach flared up, he would push all the sweet dishes away. He used to say, "My girl isn't going to the hospital over a plate of food." Back then, I really thought he loved me. But today, Chloe placed a honey-glazed rib into my bowl. "Elena, eat more." I looked at the sticky, sweet rib. I slowly put down my forks. Ethan's face darkened instantly. "She's just being nice. Don't ruin the mood." The relatives fell silent for a second. Soon, someone laughed to break the tension. "These two sisters are just like when they were kids. One is delicate, the other is stubborn." "Back then, we all thought Ethan would marry Chloe." "But Elena is lucky. She got a great husband in the end." Chloe lowered her head. Her voice was soft. "Don't say that. It will make Elena sad." Ethan didn't defend me. He only said, "Let's not talk about the past." *The past.* Those words fell so lightly. Sitting there, I suddenly felt like an outsider. I was the one who was legally Ethan's wife. Yet the way they looked at me. It was like I was a thief who had stolen Chloe's rightful place. My mother-in-law pulled out a brochure. "Chloe is psychologically fragile right now. The doctor suggests she spend three months at a coastal recovery retreat." "The retreat has a great environment, and Ethan has already paid half." She pushed the brochure in front of me. "For the rest of the bill, you should take out your fertility savings." "You're still young anyway. You can always have kids later." My fingers froze. That savings. I had saved it dollar by dollar. I had dreamed of buying a crib, baby clothes, and a stroller once the baby was born. But now the baby was gone. And they wanted to take that money to pay for Chloe's luxury retreat. I looked at Ethan. He didn't look away. He only said, "We need to prioritize her right now." I asked, "What if I told you the baby is already gone?" The table fell dead silent. Chloe's tears instantly started flowing. "Elena, are you still blaming me for sitting in the front seat?" "Please don't use a baby to scare me. I'll die of guilt." Ethan's brow furrowed deeply. "That's enough." I looked at him. His voice was extremely low. "Don't use a child to fight for my attention." "You know how easily she blames herself. Why do you have to trigger her?" At that moment. I suddenly lost all energy to explain. Even when I admitted to losing our child. In his eyes, it was just a cheap trick to make him jealous. Chloe clutched her chest, saying she couldn't breathe. Ethan immediately stood up to support her. He brushed past me, yelling for the family doctor. I looked down and opened my phone. I searched for a divorce agreement template. And I typed Ethan's name in, letter by letter. I had written his name so many times before. On our wedding invitations. On our house deed. On my pregnancy checkup forms. But it had never felt as smooth and effortless as it did now.
Back at our house, for the first time, Ethan didn't immediately run off to Chloe. He placed a bowl of warm soup in front of me. His voice was softer. "I'll take you to the hospital for a checkup tomorrow." "I haven't paid enough attention to you these past few days." "Once Chloe stabilizes, we'll focus on us." I looked at him. This felt exactly like every other late compensation he had offered before. Once Chloe stabilizes. Once Chloe is fine. Once Chloe stops crying. In the end. I was always the one left waiting. Ethan reached out to touch my face. I turned away. His hand froze in the air. I asked him, "Ethan, if she and I both needed you tomorrow, who would you choose first?" He frowned slightly. "That's a pointless question." The next second, his phone rang. It was a voice message from Chloe. She was sobbing hysterically. "Ethan, I shouldn't be alive. I'm just getting in the way of your marriage." "If it weren't for me, Elena wouldn't hate you so much." Ethan's face changed instantly. I looked at him. "Didn't you say you'd take me to the hospital tomorrow?" He gripped his phone. He was silent for a long time. Then he said, "I just need to make sure she's safe. I'll be right back." I smiled. "Right back." On the day of the crash, he should have remembered me "right back" too. But he told the firefighters. There was no one else inside. Ethan grabbed his coat. Before opening the door, he looked back at me. "Wait for me." Once the door closed, the house became completely quiet. I sat there for a while. Then I stood up and placed the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. The abortion report. The post-surgery diagnosis. The ultrasound picture. And my wedding ring. I pressed them all down under the papers. I transferred the fertility savings back to my personal account. That was my money for my baby. Now that the baby was gone. Not a single cent of it was going to Chloe's wellness retreat. My suitcase had been packed long ago. I deactivated my phone number. I deleted all my social media accounts. No notes. No goodbyes. I went straight to the airport. It was past midnight when Ethan finally came home. Chloe had only taken two sleeping pills. The doctor said she just needed some sleep. When he opened the door, the house was dark. He instinctively called my name. No one answered. Half the master closet was empty. My usual skincare products on the vanity were gone. My toothbrush in the bathroom was gone too. Ethan's face turned pale. He rushed to the living room. There, he saw the divorce papers on the coffee table. He saw the medical report that read: *Miscarriage, uterine trauma, future conception will be difficult.* And he saw the ultrasound picture pressed beneath them. In the photo, the tiny gestational sac was just a blurry dot. It was the surprise I had wanted to give him. Ethan stood frozen. His fingers shook so badly he could barely hold the paper. He desperately started dialing my number. But only a cold automated voice answered. "The number you have dialed is no longer in service."
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