Divorcing My Husband After the New YearChapter 1
When I went home with my husband, David Caldwell, for the New Year, it was like he became a completely different person. The man I thought I knew—the man I married—was gone. He didn’t stand up for me, not once.
It started with Cindy Jackson, his cousin. She’d secretly taken my perfume, but she turned the whole situation around before I could even confront her.
“You’re accusing me of stealing? Seriously?” she spat, her voice dripping with fake indignation.
The kicker?
I hadn’t even said a word yet. But somehow, David thought I was the immature one.
Then came Ryan, David's nephew and Cindy's son. That little brat thought it would be hilarious to shove me from behind. I fell hard, scraping my hand and barely managing to protect my belly. And what did he do? He laughed. Laughed! “I just wanted to see if Auntie would have a miscarriage,” he said with a grin like it was some kind of twisted joke.
I lost it. I slapped him hard. And yeah, I’ll admit it—I kicked him too. But before I could catch my breath, David swooped in, not to defend me but to scold me.
“He’s just a kid, Elaine. Why stoop to his level?” he said, shaking his head like I was the one in the wrong. Then he added, “Besides, it’s partly your fault for not standing firm.”
That was the moment something inside me broke. I looked at him, his smug, dismissive face, and felt my last shred of respect for him disappear. In that instant, I saw the real David—the one I’d been too blind to notice before.
I didn’t even hesitate. I grabbed my phone and texted my mom:
[Mom, you were right. I’ll listen to you. I’m not keeping this child.]
——
Fast forward to the second year of our marriage. David suggested we spend New Year’s in his hometown in Texas.
“Babe,” he said, “we went to your place last year. Can we go to mine this time? My mom’s getting older, and she’s not used to living in the city. Plus, I want to introduce you to my relatives. We’ve been married for so long and haven’t visited yet.”
I never imagined that trip would be the final nail in the coffin of our marriage.
It all started with Cindy. Again.
She had her eye on my anniversary perfume—the one David had given me.
“Cindy, if you like it that much, I can buy you your own set,” I said politely, trying to keep things civil. “But this one… it’s a gift from David, so I can’t really—”