DEAR EX HUSBAND, YOU LOVED ME TOO LATE

ANIKA'S POV

"I am sorry, Madam Smith, but you lost the baby."

The doctor kept saying more things, but I was not listening from that point on. My hands instinctively wrapped around my stomach, which now seemed empty, and I felt the tears run down my cheeks. Still, I did not say a single word. I could not even blink.

Everything inside me just hurt.

Just yesterday, I still had my son in my belly. I was whispering sweet things to him about how I would give him the world when he was born.

Then there was the incident with Bree, and in the twinkle of an eye, I had lost it all. That yesterday now seemed like a faraway dream.

"I'm sorry, Madam, are you listening to me?"

I blinked once, then twice, trying to come back to reality.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked, my voice cracking at the end.

The doctor shot me a look of pity. I hated that look because somehow it just seemed to solidify everything-how real it was, the fact that I had actually lost my baby.

"I said that you need a family member to come and sign your documents before we can proceed with treatment."

I turned away from the doctor and faced the window.

"I have no one here," I said.

He looked at me with a shocked expression.

"I just saw your husband outside-"

I cut him off.

"You are free to try, Doctor, but I assure you, Simon won't come."

Just thinking about him made my heart hurt even more.

When he found both Bree and me at the bottom of the staircase, I was lying there bleeding from multiple injuries while Bree only had a small scratch. He took Bree to the hospital instead and left me for dead.

I lay there helplessly in a pool of my own blood until one of the housekeepers found me and called 911.

If he had gotten me to the hospital earlier, then maybe my son would still be alive.

But I did not want to think about what could have been. Not right now. It would break me.

My own husband, whom I had been married to for four years-the man who was supposed to love me and protect me-had left me for dead while panicking over my sister.

Another round of tears fell from my eyes without my permission.

Simon did not deserve my tears or my love, but that could not change how painful this was. I had spent countless hours racking my brain over and over again, but I still could not figure out when things got this bad.

When had the lovely smile he once wore whenever he looked at me turned into a look of disdain? When had he stopped caring about me? When had he stopped loving me?

I did not notice the doctor leave, but now he was back in the room, and the look on his face told me I had been right.

He cleared his throat.

"Your husband, Mr. Smith, said that he was busy and should not be disturbed with trivial matters."

I almost lost my mind.

Trivial matters?

I had stitches everywhere.

We had just lost our son.

And to him, this was a trivial matter.

I scoffed.

"I can sign the documents myself, Doctor. I don't need anyone," I said.

"This is against hospital policy," he replied.

"Then do whatever you want. I don't care!" I snapped.

I felt guilty about taking out all my emotions on the wrong person, but at this point, I was too exhausted to even care about my attitude. I would apologize later.

He heaved a sigh before passing the documents to me.

"Please sign."

I took the pen, hissing slightly as it rubbed against my cuts. When I was done, I handed it back to him.

"If that is all, I would really like to sleep now," I said.

He stepped back.

"Okay. You can rest now so that you can recover."

I lay on the bed and turned away from everyone. With my hands on my stomach, I began crying again for all that I had lost until I finally dozed off.

Muffled whispers woke me from my sleep.

"I feel so much pity for this woman. She has just lost her child and sustained multiple injuries from a terrible fall, yet there are no family members here to care for her. Not a single visitor."

"Right. Meanwhile, the patient in the VIP room only sustained a small scratch, and her fiancé won't stop fussing over her."

I sat up and cleared my throat.

The two nurses looked at me like deer caught in headlights.

"I need to use the bathroom," I said.

"Yes. W-we are sorry," one of them replied.

I did not even bother to answer. Suddenly, everything just felt so numb.

The nurses assisted me to my feet.

Since I was in a regular ward, there was no toilet in the room, which meant I had to use the one in the corridor.

On the way there, I passed by the VIP room, and I instantly recognized the laughter.

"You take such good care of me, Simon," Bree said.

"Of course. Your safety is the most important thing to me."

His voice was so tender. It was a tone I could not remember the last time he had used with me. Whenever he spoke to me, he always sounded cold and dismissive.

I wanted to walk away. I knew listening would only hurt me more, but my feet stayed rooted in place.

"Aren't you going to see Anika? She's hurt too. She must be so angry at me."

Simon scoffed.

"She doesn't matter. Someone who made you get hurt deserves to suffer alone."

I gasped, my eyelids burning.

Was this really what he thought? That I had caused this?

I had just suffered a miscarriage, and here he was saying that I did not matter.

In that moment, every ounce of love I thought I had for Simon Smith vanished into thin air. All I felt now was numbness.

I hugged my stomach again.

"Simon Smith, I will never forgive you."

ANIKA'S POV

One week.

That was how long I stayed in the hospital. There were no visits, no calls, not even a message to check up on me.

I had devoted 4 years into this marriage, poured all my love, my time, and my affection, and in the end, I had come to terms with the fact that the person that I loved the most would never even see my value.

He was occupied with my own sister.

Honestly, I thought I would have felt terrible, more miserable, or even cry some more, but instead, I felt this peaceful emptiness. It was like I had finally just accepted the truth that had been inside of me for years, and now I was finally free.

When I was finally discharged, there was no one there to pick me up, not like I had any expectations. I booked an Uber to take me back home.

The house was empty, untouched, like Simon had not stepped in here for the entire week that I was away, probably spent the entire time with Bree.

I waited for the hurt, waited for the pang of betrayal to pierce my heart, but that feeling of emptiness was still there.

Simon now felt like a stranger to me.

"Madam, you're back."

Martha rushed up to me and engulfed me in a hug. She was the head maid and probably the closest thing to a friend that I had in here.

"How is the baby?" she asked worriedly, and tears welled up in my eyes again.

"I'm so sorry," she said and hugged me tighter.

I allowed her to hold me for a few more minutes, just basking in the warmth before I finally pulled away, wiping my tears.

"Has Simon been home recently?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer to all of that. She shook her head. "No, Madam." I simply nodded my head.

When I got to my room, I began feeling disgust... In the earlier stages of our marriage, I had insisted that our wedding portrait be left in my room. A large picture of him and me on the day we got married, hanging over my bed.

We looked so happy, although now, as I took a closer look at it, I realized that it was only me that was happy.

I treasured it so much, and for years, I had made sure that there was not a single speck of dust on it.... Now, I could not even bear to look at it.

"Martha!" I called out, and she hurried over. "Yes, Madam?"

I pointed to the portrait. "Get rid of it," I said.

Her eyes widened. "But, Madam, you love this portrait," she said.

I gave her a pointed look. "I said throw it away."

She nodded. "Yes, Madam."

And with that, she called the men, and they quickly brought it down. I stared at the empty space where the picture used to be, and I felt nothing.

Later that evening, I was in the living room sipping some chamomile tea while watching some cheesy telenovelas that I could not even tell you the name of when the front door opened, and Simon walked in.

Before, I would be waiting for him at the front door to take his bags and make sure he got changed into comfortable slippers that I had pre-warmed, but now, I did not even look in his direction, just continued watching the movie.

I heard his footsteps walking over to me. "Anika."

"What?"

When I looked up at him, his brows were scrunched up in a mixture of anger and confusion. "I heard you were back, so why were you not waiting for me with warm slippers?"

I stared blankly up at him.

In all the time I had been doing that, he never appreciated it, sometimes he even called me annoying, and now he dared ask me that?

I shrugged. "I won't be doing that for you anymore, Simon," I said simply.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I know you are mad that I did not visit you in the hospital, but I was busy... no need to throw a tantrum," he said.

"Believe what you want," I said.

He looked even more puzzled. Before, I would have apologized, begged, looked for a way to appease him, but now I just did not care.

"What has gotten into you, Anika?" he asked.

I stood up. "If you have nothing more to say, then I am going to my room now."

"Wait." He held my arm before I walked away, and I snatched my hands from him. Then he heaved a sigh and brought out a bracelet from his pocket. "Here, so stop being angry."

The bracelet was cheap, the paint was already chipping off.

A dry laugh came out of my throat. "Is this what you think of me?" I threw the bracelet to the ground. "You're pathetic."

His eyes turned angry. "You ungrateful bitch-"

His phone rang immediately, cutting him off.

It was Bree.

I could see the way his gaze softened once he took her call, a smile settled its way on his face like she could just lighten up his mood with one phone call.

That used to be me.

"Hi, how are you?" he asked immediately.

Her voice was annoyingly loud at the other end. "Thank you so much for the jade bracelet, Simon. It's beautiful."

"I already told you, I will get you anything you want, no need to thank me," he said.

"Umm... I hope Anika takes the freebie and forgives me," her voice was sickeningly sweet.

I scoffed and folded my hands.

He seriously wanted to give me Bree's remains as a gift. He could not even so much as put some thought into his so-called apology gift, just passed me scraps like I was a dog.

I wasn't hurt, not in the slightest. I was fucking livid.

How could he humiliate me like this?

"I will call you soon, okay, Bree. Just take care of yourself before you get sick," he said softly and hung up. He turned to me with a guilty expression. "Anika, it's not.... It was-"

I folded my arms, my face hard and my mind already made up.

"Let's get a divorce."

ANIKA'S POV

"What?"

He said it like he could not believe what I was saying, which, to his credit, was understandable. In his wildest dreams, he had probably never imagined that I would ask for a divorce.

Unfortunately for him, I was no longer the person I used to be.

Now, I could not care less about him.

Simon stared at me like I had just announced that the sky was green, like I had just made the most absurd statement imaginable.

He probably thought I was insane.

After all, I was Anika-the woman who loved him so much it was pathetic.

The same girl who used to follow him around like a lost puppy.

The same girl who begged him to marry her.

The same girl who tolerated every insult, every humiliation, every late night he never explained.

And now, that same girl was asking him for a divorce.

I could practically see the disbelief swirling inside his head.

I watched his face carefully.

Just observing.

Because I knew exactly what he expected.

He was waiting for me to take it back.

To laugh and say I was joking.

To apologize.

To tell him I was being irrational.

I was supposed to beg for his forgiveness like always.

But I didn't.

Instead, I stood there with my arms folded, staring him directly in the eyes as though I had simply stated a fact.

"You can't be serious, Anika," he said.

I hissed before I could stop myself.

"I am dead serious, Simon. I can't keep doing this with you."

The room went still.

Something dark flickered across his face.

Suddenly, he stepped forward and grabbed both my arms.

Hard.

His fingers dug painfully into my skin.

He looked like he was on the verge of losing control.

"What are you even talking about, Anika?" he demanded. "You are my wife."

My arms throbbed under his grip.

I struggled against him.

"Let go of me, Simon. You're hurting me."

He didn't.

So I yanked my arms back as hard as I could until they finally slipped free.

My skin stung where his fingers had been. I rubbed the sore spots gently.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked.

He began pacing around the room like a trapped animal.

"You are seriously acting out right now," he muttered. "Is it because of something so trivial that you're doing this?"

For a second, I thought I had heard him wrong.

Trivial.

The word kept repeating itself inside my head like a cruel tune that would probably haunt me forever.

I scoffed, my eyes blazing.

I pointed at myself.

"I lost our child, Simon," I said, my voice trembling with disbelief. "I had a fucking miscarriage, and you're calling it trivial?"

The silence that followed felt heavy.

I thought he would at least pretend to feel remorse.

Even if it was fake.

But there was no sadness.

No guilt.

Nothing.

He just looked irritated.

Then, without warning, he grabbed both my hands.

"If it's about the baby, you don't have to worry," he said calmly. "We can always make more."

Before I could even process his words, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.

My body froze.

I tried to move, but it was as if my limbs refused to cooperate.

Too many emotions crashed into me at once.

Disgust.

Anger.

Rage.

Everything exploded inside me.

I tried to push him away, but he only deepened the kiss, as though he thought I was playing some stupid game.

As though I was playing hard to get.

Without warning, my teeth sank into his lower lip.

He jerked back immediately.

His hand flew to his mouth.

He wiped at the blood with his thumb and glared at me.

"You-"

Before he could finish the sentence, my hand moved.

The slap echoed through the room.

His head snapped to the side.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

The silence was deafening.

Then he slowly turned back to face me.

"Why the fuck did you slap me?" he demanded.

My chest heaved with anger, and my eyes burned with unshed tears.

"You disgust me."

My words were sharp.

And I meant every single one of them.

The hatred in my voice surprised even me.

Simon stared at me as though he could not recognize the woman standing before him.

"You don't even care that our son is gone," I continued. "How shameless can you be?"

He folded his arms as though none of this mattered.

"I just wanted to spend some time with my wife," he said. "I don't see the problem with that."

I laughed bitterly.

"You're ridiculous. You don't even want me. Go to Bree."

The moment her name left my mouth, he paused.

A smug smile slowly spread across his face, as though he had finally solved a mystery.

"So that's what this is about," he said. "You're jealous of Bree?"

I didn't respond.

"She's your little sister, Anika. Stop being childish."

Still, I remained silent.

He actually thought I was jealous of my sister.

At this point, he could do whatever he wanted.

I wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

The fact that I had asked for a divorce should have made that clear enough.

He smirked.

"You said it yourself. Don't come bitching about it later."

Then he grabbed his keys and walked straight out the door.

I didn't stop him.

I simply stood there and watched him leave.

The house fell silent.

I remained standing there for a long time, staring at the door.

I expected disappointment.

I expected heartbreak.

Instead, that familiar hollow feeling settled in my chest once again.

Later that night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling when my phone buzzed.

Once.

I ignored it.

Twice.

Then a third time.

Frowning, I reached for it.

A message from Bree.

Of course.

My stomach twisted as I opened it.

The first image loaded slowly.

Then the second.

Then the third.

My breath caught in my throat.

Bree was half-naked in bed.

Her hair was messy against the pillow.

The sheets barely covered her body.

And beside her...

Simon.

My husband.

Sleeping peacefully as though nothing in the world was wrong.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

It was the bright red hickey resting on her neck.

Visible.

Obvious.

Practically screaming for my attention.

My fingers began to tremble.

Another message appeared beneath the photos.

Bree: Guess where your husband is tonight?