Divorce Him Before We Even Marry - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
You are reading Divorce Him Before We Even Marry, Chapter 2: Chapter 2. Read more chapters of Divorce Him Before We Even Marry.
In my past life, I never made it to college.
Ethan and I were set to marry in just a few days, and soon after, I became a mother—so my education ended there. Ethan stayed in school a little longer before enlisting in the army.
Then, the distance between us grew.
He climbed the ranks, and wherever he was stationed, Linda and her daughter followed.
Meanwhile, I was trapped in a small world—serving his parents, raising our children, watching them grow from clingy toddlers into adults who slowly drifted toward Ethan's new life.
By the time I found out about his wedding to Linda's daughter, it was already over. An old friend's photo showed them glowing, serving tea to their parents, looking every bit the happy family.
Later, my own son begged me to divorce.
"Mom," he said, "Dad's suffered his whole life. If it weren't for you, he would've been with my mother-in-law years ago."
"Mom, you two were never right for each other. Why can't you just let go?"
Even my daughter-in-law couldn't stand the sight of me.
But how could I give up?
I couldn't accept that I'd spent years nursing his parents when they were bedridden, while he was off with someone else.
I couldn't accept that when our son spiked a fever in the middle of the night, I ran barefoot for miles to get help—while he was playing house, tutoring another woman's child.
And I especially couldn't accept that after sacrificing everything for this family…
He said it.
They said it.
Everyone said it.
That we were never meant to be.
That I was the one who refused to move on.
But I held on.
Years of hardship carved themselves into my face, leaving me worn and weary.
Even in death, I swore I'd drag them down with me.
As for whether they'd end up together after I was gone—I didn't care anymore.
I was too tired to care.
In the end, I died the day my son came to plead for the divorce one last time.
He ranted, he begged, and when I stayed silent, he stormed out in anger.
He never heard me call after him.
He never saw me collapse the moment the door slammed.
And in that final second, I regretted everything.
Why had I clung to him?
Why had I wasted my entire life on him?
But then—
I woke up.
Back before I married Ethan.
Back when everything could still be different.
Ethan and I were set to marry in just a few days, and soon after, I became a mother—so my education ended there. Ethan stayed in school a little longer before enlisting in the army.
Then, the distance between us grew.
He climbed the ranks, and wherever he was stationed, Linda and her daughter followed.
Meanwhile, I was trapped in a small world—serving his parents, raising our children, watching them grow from clingy toddlers into adults who slowly drifted toward Ethan's new life.
By the time I found out about his wedding to Linda's daughter, it was already over. An old friend's photo showed them glowing, serving tea to their parents, looking every bit the happy family.
Later, my own son begged me to divorce.
"Mom," he said, "Dad's suffered his whole life. If it weren't for you, he would've been with my mother-in-law years ago."
"Mom, you two were never right for each other. Why can't you just let go?"
Even my daughter-in-law couldn't stand the sight of me.
But how could I give up?
I couldn't accept that I'd spent years nursing his parents when they were bedridden, while he was off with someone else.
I couldn't accept that when our son spiked a fever in the middle of the night, I ran barefoot for miles to get help—while he was playing house, tutoring another woman's child.
And I especially couldn't accept that after sacrificing everything for this family…
He said it.
They said it.
Everyone said it.
That we were never meant to be.
That I was the one who refused to move on.
But I held on.
Years of hardship carved themselves into my face, leaving me worn and weary.
Even in death, I swore I'd drag them down with me.
As for whether they'd end up together after I was gone—I didn't care anymore.
I was too tired to care.
In the end, I died the day my son came to plead for the divorce one last time.
He ranted, he begged, and when I stayed silent, he stormed out in anger.
He never heard me call after him.
He never saw me collapse the moment the door slammed.
And in that final second, I regretted everything.
Why had I clung to him?
Why had I wasted my entire life on him?
But then—
I woke up.
Back before I married Ethan.
Back when everything could still be different.
End of Divorce Him Before We Even Marry Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to Divorce Him Before We Even Marry book page.