A Justice for Miscarriage

My in-laws were hit by a car crash. I called my husband, begging him to give me some money to pay the hospital bill.

He said, "Oh, if you want money, just come out with it. That excuse is terrible!"

He hung up on me. Despite how unfair it felt, I had to call him again. This time, a voice I was familiar with hit my ears. A woman's voice.

"Chris, I got a bit too much sunscreen on my hand. Can I smear the rest on your abs?"

Lovingly, my husband said, "You little troublemaker."

His parents died that night. Overseas.

Cheating Man

More than two weeks had gone by since my in-laws' deaths. I could not leave their remains behind, but Christopher Grayson refused to take my calls or even come home. I had to handle the paperwork myself and deal with the cremation.

I remembered distinctly about the thing they told me one day before they met their demise. They wanted to pray to God so Christopher and I would be blessed with a child. Instead, death now separated us. They were lying in coffins, while I stood beside them.

I had no idea why this happened all of a sudden. I had no idea why Christopher would go no contact with me for so long. This was his parents, for God's sake!

And then something rustled. He was home. I raised my head only to be met with the frail childhood friend of Christopher's. Yvonne Wood.

She was wearing my sleepwear, and her neck was covered in hickeys. The sight alone nearly made my eyes hurt, and my stomach churned.

"Chris and I have been waiting for you. Did you have fun? I got takeout. Want to share?"

Christopher was standing beside the dining table. He didn't even give me a single look.

The bastard let Yvonne wear my sleepwear and messed around with her while his parents were dying. I refused to think about the things they did in our bedroom. It would push the bile up to my throat.

I was going to the bathroom, but Yvonne got in my way. "Don't get mad at Chris. He's busy and has no time to relax. I wanted him to let his hair down, so I asked him to join me on a vacation. You can't shop around every day if he doesn't work for it."

She was too close to me. My personal space was invaded. The stench of her perfume shot straight up my nose. That was it. I threw up. She moved back, but the vomit hit her anyway.

"Disgusting," Christopher said. First thing he said to me in half a month. He refused to tell me why Yvonne was in my pajamas. He didn't even ask me what I'd been doing. He didn't even care that I threw up because I was sick.

But in times long past, a single frown alone would've gotten him all worried. He'd ask me again and