“Have you heard? Angela’s insisting on divorcing her husband!”
The words hit me like a dropped plate shattering on tile. My hand, halfway to fastening on my name tag, froze. The sound of it felt like every head in the room had turned my way, though I knew they hadn’t.
“What? But her husband treats her so well,” one of them whispered back. “During her confinement, he came here every single day to buy baby supplies himself. He even remembered the exact diaper sizes. And now that the child just turned one, she’s asking for a divorce?”
They rattled off the details I knew all too well—little gestures lined up like medals on display, and I felt more exposed than I had any right to.
“I heard it’s because she can’t get over the fact that her husband once cared for that childhood sweetheart who passed away,” another added knowingly. “But look at him, he handed her his salary card, even raised the fish she likes, and I think it was flown in from overseas too. Isn’t that enough? She just doesn’t know how lucky she is.”
Those last words pricked at me as if they were a judgment I couldn’t argue with.
Lucky...
The word sat strangely on my tongue, like a label someone else had taped to my chest.
The moment I pushed open the door, their chatter cut off abruptly.
Several pairs of eyes turned toward me at once, sharp as needles, pricking against my skin.
A faint awkwardness crossed their faces, and the shop owner hurried out to smooth things over.
“Angela, you’re here?" Mrs. Jenkins' voice was hoarse, cautious as she approached. Come in, come in. We just happen to be short-staffed today.”
I let them perform their little charade of surprise. It was easier that way. I smiled at the owner, pulled my uniform over my head, and kept my breath steady while the room rearranged itself around me.
I had just changed into my uniform when I saw Jonathan at the entrance, holding Ethan in his arms.
Dark shadows ringed his eyes, proof of sleepless nights.
Ethan was wrapped snugly in his embrace, with his round eyes staring straight at me.
He looked exhausted in a way that made my chest ache. He stood there like he’d been waiting for me to decide something that would either save or break us.
“Angela.” His voice was hoarse, tentative, as he walked carefully toward me. “Come home with me, please? Ethan cried for you last night. He’s never spent a night without you.”