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You Left Me in Labor Now Die in War
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
For a moment, I thought he might stay.
But instead, he stuffed the card and passport into his bag and swore again:
“I promise I’ll be back before the baby comes.”
Then he slammed the door and left in a rush.
I listened to the echo of the door slamming shut in our now–empty home and calmly called the maternity ward and a postnatal care center.
A man who didn’t even notice my water had broken dared to swear he’d return in time for the birth.
How laughable.
Eric and I met through a mountaineering club.
Back then, I worked at a tech company under intense pressure. I regularly worked overtime, and the only time I could breathe was on weekends when I hiked to recover some energy.
He joined the club in my second year there. At first, we were just regular teammates, but we always charged ahead together, always the first to reach the summit. Over time, we grew close.
He worked in investment banking.
I worked in internet tech.
He liked hiking, running, and working out.
So did I.
When we summited our hundredth mountain, he confessed his love to me.
No fancy words, no over–the–top romance.
Just one sentence: “Freya, let’s be together.”
I agreed.
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You Left Main Labor Now Die in War
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Chapter 2
Not because he was especially charming–my father was the king of romance. When he pursued my mother, he lit up half the city with fireworks and even got arrested for disturbing the peace.
But that passion ultimately destroyed my mother. When she was pregnant with their second child, my father’s mistress showed up, deliberately provoking my mother who was about to go into labor–and it killed her on the operating table.
So I’d long since realized: romance is cheap. Reliability is what matters.
And Eric was reliable.
He was never late.
His gifts were always cliché, but he never forgot a single occasion.
He wouldn’t pick me up when it rained, but the moment I called, he’d come without hesitation.
So, after three years of dating, we got married.
Married life wasn’t much different from before.
We split chores equally. On holidays, we took turns choosing vacation spots–one trip to a place he
liked, one to a place I liked.
It was calm, orderly, and uneventful.
I once believed I was made for this kind of life.
Until three years ago, when one of his college friends got married, and he brought me along to the
wedding.
At the bachelor party, one of his very drunk friends pulled him aside and cried:
“Eric, seeing you like this–with no spark in your eyes–breaks my heart.”
“I’m getting married tomorrow. I’m finally stepping into happiness. But you… you’re like someone who’s locked his heart away.”
“If Aria hadn’t insisted on becoming a war reporter, you wouldn’t have ended up like this.”
I saw Eric glance at me, instinctively.
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Chapter 2
He quickly explained, “He’s drunk. Don’t listen to him.”
I just smiled and said nothing.
On the way home, leaning in the passenger seat, I said calmly, “I don’t ask for much in a partner. But the one thing I need is for him to be over his ex.”
He stood where the hallway light couldn’t reach, so I couldn’t see his expression.
But from that night on, the name Aria vanished from our lives.
Until now.
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