Too Late for Regrets

On the day of my seventh wedding anniversary, my husband's lover gave my son a pet cat.

My pregnancy made me allergic to cat fur, and rashes appeared all over my body. Sensing that it might lead to a miscarriage, I told my son to return the cat.

"I'm keeping it!" my five-year-old son, Zachary, protested. He pushed me and said, "I hate having you as my mom! I want Aunt Lynn to be my mom!"

My husband, Quinton Locke, tore into me. "Why did you have to develop an allergy now, out of all times? Is your jealousy blinding you to the point where you won't even consider your son's feelings? You're being unreasonable!"

He took Zachary and left with the cat. They had eschewed me in favor of Lynn Shelbert, Quinton's lover, the apple of his eye.

I collapsed to the ground, watching as blood began to soak my pants. At that moment, I knew I had suffered a miscarriage.

I felt an unimaginable pain while I was in the hospital.

My husband and son traveled with Lynn, resembling a happy family of three.

Lynn sent me a message.

[Do you know why Quinton married you even though he's hopelessly in love with me? Well, I wanted a son and a daughter, but I didn't want to bear the risks that come with pregnancy. It's a shame you miscarried.]

Despair engulfed me that very instant.

I hired a lawyer to prepare the divorce papers and flew back to my hometown.

My sole wish was never to see Quinton and Zachary again. Yet, six years later, they showed up at my bakery.

They looked alike and turned customers' heads in the store, but my heart was in deep pain when I saw them.

After my miscarriage six years ago, the first person I called was Quinton.

I was not expecting him to give up on his darling and return to me. All I wanted was to hear some words of comfort from him.

Quinton lamented, "What a pity. Lynn was looking forward to having a daughter."

I broke down and asked him, "Did you marry me so that I could become your baby factory?"

"I was only telling you that Lynn wanted a daughter. What did that have to do with making you my baby factory? For god's sake, quit throwing these hissy fits like some psychopathic lunatic, Mabel!"

Quinton hung up right away.

He dictated my emotions and loved power plays in our relationship. My life revolved around him because he had control over me. He would never lower himself to explain his words and actions to me, let alone offer comfort.

Back then, I was teetering on the brink of utter collapse. I phoned him repeatedly, but my calls went unanswered.

I then decided to call Zachary's smartwatch, which had a function that could receive calls.

"Zachary! Will you come with me if your dad and I get a divorce?"

Staying in such a troubled marriage was