Ex-husband's Love Comes After Divorce

"Dad... don't leave me! Please... Dad!"

My cries echoed through the emergency room that night, five years ago. My father's body lay weak on the bed, tubes attached to his frail frame. His heart had stopped once, then beat again for a moment-only to give me false hope.

I clutched his hand tightly, tears streaming down my face.

"In this world... I only have you, Dad..." My voice was hoarse, choked by a reality I refused to accept.

But the monitor went flat, the sound turning into a single unbroken line.

"I'm sorry, we've done everything we could..." the doctor said with his head lowered.

I screamed, my whole body trembling. My world collapsed.

Beside me, a graceful woman in a black gown touched my shoulder. Mrs. Bagaskara. Her eyes glistened though her face remained composed. Her husband, Mr. Bagaskara, stood stiffly behind her.

"Devia..." Her soft voice pierced my ears as she gripped my hand firmly.

"This accident... was caused by the negligence of our family's driver." Her breath was heavy, her lips trembling.

"As atonement... marry my son. From tonight onward, you will become part of the Bagaskara family."

I stared at her with swollen eyes. Marry? When I had just lost my father? But the look in her eyes carried both demand and a promise I couldn't refuse.

That night, I signed my fate.

---

Five years have passed since that day. I, Devia, am now legally the wife of Argantara Bagaskara.

But "wife" is nothing more than a word on paper.

My husband-the tall, handsome man as cold as the Arctic-has never truly seen me. Not once has he acknowledged me as his wife with sincerity.

For five years, we lived under the same roof, yet his heart was nowhere to be found.

Every time I tried to get close, he pushed me away with excuses of being busy.

Every time I waited, he returned home late at night.

But tonight was different. Tonight I carried a secret-a new life within me. I was pregnant.

Though my hands trembled, my heart was filled with hope.

I wanted him to know. I wanted-just once-to see joy on his face because of me.

---

It was eleven o'clock at night.

I sat in the living room, my hand resting on my still-flat stomach, imagining the tiny life growing inside.

The front door creaked open. Footsteps echoed.

Argantara finally came home. His black suit was still neat, his face cold, his eyes never glancing at me.

"Argan..." I called softly.

"Hm." He grunted, tossing his keys onto the table.

I stood up, forcing a smile though my heart pounded. "I... I have something to tell you."

He shrugged off his jacket, dropped it carelessly, and sat on the sofa. His eyes weren't on me but glued to his phone, his fingers tapping rapidly.

"Can you listen to me for just a moment?" My voice wavered, rising with nerves.

"I'm busy, Devia." He sighed without looking up. "Tell me tomorrow."