Forever Lost My Love

I was married to Chad Caldwell for ten years.

I met all his girlfriends during our marriage. Whenever he got bored and wanted to move on, I was his best excuse.

"If you marry me, you'll end up like her. Too familiar and no spark left."

On our anniversary, I wiped tears for his latest ex, a college girl, while he was at the movies with his new fling.

She used up a pack of tissues, and I seemed to see my old self in her.

Afterward, I asked Chad for a divorce.

He was confused. "Why not wait a bit? Maybe I'll turn over a new leaf."

I gave a faint smile but said nothing. Instead, I booked a plane ticket and flew across the ocean.

If he wouldn't turn around, I'd take the first step.

Marrying a playboy took some serious grit.

As the tissues in my hand got thinner, those words popped into my head.

The girl across from me, Rebecca Frye, was a senior in college. She'd been crying for two hours straight since walking in.

Her whirlwind romance with Chad lasted barely a month. It was hardly worth smearing her makeup over.

I tried to comfort her, but she suddenly looked at me with teary eyes.

"He once said I reminded him of you. Now I see it," she started.

I froze because none of Chad's exes had ever said that to me.

Rebecca sniffled, wiping her eyes. Then, with a mocking edge, she said, "I don't need your pity. You're way more pathetic than me."

She was spot on.

Everyone in Aurespring knew Chad married a saintly wife. She was such a saint that she forgot his repetitive betrayals and even helped clean up his messes.

I called every girl he dated during our marriage an ex. I had thrown my dignity out the window.

My phone buzzed with a text from Chad.

[Still not done? The movie is about to start.]

I set it face-down, meeting Rebecca's teary eyes.

"Whatever you want as compensation, just name it. I'll make it happen," I blurted.

I'd said that line so many times, I sounded like an HR representative handling layoffs.

She scoffed and shot to her feet. "I don't want anything."

I sighed, "You should."

Money, a car, or a house were the best choices. She should hold onto something solid.

But her glare turned icy. She grabbed her cold coffee and dumped it over my head.

She croaked, "I'm pregnant, and I'm keeping it."

I stared at her, speechless. Then a bitter smile crossed my face.

Sure enough, Chad didn't keep a single promise he made to me.

...

I climbed into the passenger seat, soaked to the bone. Chad was on the phone, making no moves to hide that he had gotten a new girl.

My hand tightened on the seatbelt, my nails digging in until my fingertips ached.

Whatever was said on the other end made him laugh, his crow's feet crinkling.