During the days when I was hospitalized for caesarean section, I forgot about my husband's cheating.
It's not forgiveness, it just hurts too much.
The pain of a scalpel cutting open my stomach, the pain of trembling with postpartum contractions, the pain of not even seeing my grandpa for the last time after his death - the pain was so painful that my brain took it upon itself to delete the position I saw on my birthday.
I thought I had forgotten all about it.
Over the next two years, he became better and better to me.
Unemployed, I earn money to support my family. If we owe a debt, let's pay it off together. He protected me when we quarreled with his parents, got up in the middle of the night to make milk powder for the child, and said, "Thank you for your hard work, my wife."
I thought the hardest days were over.
Until that day I found his phone again.
Memories came flooding back like water bursting from a dam.
I looked at his face as he ran over in a panic and asked "What's wrong?" And suddenly smiled.
It's not that I forgive him.
I finally know——
The end point is not that he gets better, but that I decide to leave.
That night, I packed up the kids' things and called a car.
He shouted from behind: "Are you okay?"
I didn't look back.
