After My Husband Chose His First Love Over Me

I gave up the life of a privileged London socialite to live for ten years in a cramped rented apartment with my boyfriend, Arturo. But on our wedding day, he abandoned me to tend to his ailing first love, Luciana. As I stood there, the guests coldly judged and mocked me, while Arturo posted a sugary message online: "Excited for our new family model of 1+1=3." It was accompanied by an ultrasound scan and a cozy photo of him with his first love. Calmly, I liked the post and then asked Arturo for a divorce. But he dropped to his knees before me, eyes red, pleading with me not to leave.

The next day, Arturo's call came late. As soon as I answered, a sweet, delicate voice greeted me:

"Sorry, Zendaya, I wasn't feeling well yesterday, and I didn't expect Arturo to miss the wedding because he was worried about me."

"I told him off for your sake."

"And about that Facebook post, I've already asked him to delete it. Don't dwell on it."

After a pause, her teasing voice continued:

"Arturo, you're all grown up now, yet you still act like a foolish child when things go wrong."

"Back in college, you did whatever I asked. After all these years, nothing's changed."

"The way you behaved yesterday, how do you think Zendaya would feel?"

"Listen up, take some time and reschedule the ceremony. I can handle things here."

Her tone was accusatory, yet sugary enough to make my stomach turn. I suppressed the nausea, ready to speak when Arturo's voice interrupted:

"Lie down and rest, don’t be impatient now that you're starting to feel better."

"If you don’t take it easy, I won't be able to take care of you anymore."

His gentle tone, like a dagger piercing my heart.

"Arturo, since you're occupied, I won't keep you. I'll send over the divorce papers in a couple of days. Don’t forget to sign them."

I cut off their sickly sweet conversation.

"Zendaya, are you done yet? You're almost thirty and still playing these divorce threats?"

"Luciana explained everything to you just now."

"I'm already dealing with enough, don’t add to my troubles."

His voice rose in frustration. I smirked.

"Don’t add to my troubles."

Arturo said this often. My care and concern were seen as nuisances. These words had become his mantra when dealing with me. Previously, when he'd say this with a furrowed brow, I'd immediately apologize, reflecting on my actions. I sought his forgiveness, promising not to repeat it. Even when I couldn't pinpoint what I'd done wrong, I was the one bowing down.

"Arturo, I'm not making threats, just stating a fact."

This time, I'm done. Exhausted.

Realizing the shift in my attitude, Arturo hesitated, his tone softened noticeably:

"Zendaya, do you have to hold onto this? Luciana suddenly fell ill yesterday, and I had to calm her down."

"A wedding is just a ceremony; it can happen any day."

"As for the Facebook post, it’s