In twelve years of marriage, Lin Wan had become an expert at pretending.
Pretending to be considerate, pretending to be sensible, pretending she had no temper.
Pretending not to hear her mother-in-law’s pointed digs, pretending not to notice her husband’s repeated indifference and avoidance.
She quit her job, raised their daughter, and shouldered every little household burden. She cooked with a fever, stayed up with their child during late-night IV treatments, and handled the parent chat groups, tutoring classes, groceries, and meals, all on her own.
It wasn’t that she had never made a fuss.
In the first few years of their marriage, she argued, fought, cried, and begged.
But every time, her husband gave the same answer: “I’m exhausted from work every day. What more do you want?”
Her mother-in-law would only say, “What woman doesn’t live like this?”
At last, Lin Wan understood.
No one in this family cared about her.
If she couldn’t win their understanding, she would stop trying.
If she couldn’t wait for things to change, she would prepare a way out herself.
So she kept pretending, for twelve years.
Until their daughter started middle school, and Lin Wan insisted, against everyone’s objections, that the girl live at school.
Everyone called her heartless. Only Lin Wan knew
She had been waiting for this day for far too long.
After her daughter moved into the dorms, she returned to work, secretly saved money, and quietly looked for a lawyer, little by little pulling herself out of the marriage.
Then, on an utterly ordinary evening, she looked at the man she had been married to for twelve years and said calmly:
“Cheng Yan, let’s get divorced!”
He froze.
Her mother-in-law exploded.
Everyone thought she was just throwing another tantrum.
But Lin Wan alone knew
that all those years of silence, restraint, and effort
had never been about continuing to be someone’s perfect wife and mother,
but about making it to this day
