"Felicia, I've neglected you in the past. You've gone through over ten rounds of IVF for me, endured morning sickness and suffered so much." From his pocket, he pulled out a pigeon-egg-sized diamond ring and handed it to me with a tender expression. He said again, "From now on, I want to make it up to you."
I didn't reach out to take it, instead, I felt an unsettling awkwardness. Why this sudden kindness? Had he discovered I was planning to leave?
That day, he said nothing, staying with me through breakfast, a movie and even a visit to an art exhibition.
Watching him, I was momentarily reminded of our days dating six years ago. Back then, he had accompanied me like this, promising to do so for a lifetime. But now, it was better to part amicably.
I said, "Tonight, I'd like to eat at that restaurant with the long lines. Will you come with me?"
"Of course." He agreed without hesitation, smiling warmly.
Perhaps he had forgotten that today marked our sixth wedding anniversary. Our last meal together could serve as a fitting farewell.
But that evening, Troy ultimately failed to show up for our dinner. Once again, Louise's phone call had pulled him away.
Before leaving, he anxiously tried to explain, "Felicia, don't misunderstand. Although I've already fired Louise, she's threatening to jump off a building, in the company no less! I have to go and calm her down!"
What he didn't know was that I had already checked his phone earlier. There was no talk of jumping.
Instead, Louise had messaged him, claiming she was pregnant. She demanded a legitimate status, threatening that otherwise, she'd jump and take both lives with her, completely ruining his reputation.
I had said nothing, merely testing him. In the end, Troy still chose to leave. He didn't return all night.
I didn't harbor any hope either. I packed my things, leaving behind what needed to stay along with a note, placing it prominently on the coffee table in the living room. Then, I boarded a plane and left this city.
When Troy returned after handling everything, he even adjusted his expression beforehand. But upon opening the door, all he found was an empty, cold house.
"Felicia? Felicia!" He searched several times but couldn't find me.
Then he turned and noticed the items on the coffee table. A transparent glass jar held a small, nearly formed embryo. The note read: