Dear Husband I'm Done Being Your Wife. Let's Divorce

~Adeline~

“Daddy, when are you and Mommy getting divorced so Aunt Beth can be my new mommy?”

I stood frozen outside my daughter's hospital room, my hand hovering near the door as those words reached me.

They came from the same sweet voice I'd grown so accustomed to hearing, yet there was something venomous in them now—something sharp enough to make my heart shatter inside my chest, only to piece itself back together in painful, unfamiliar ways.

If anyone had asked me how my sweet daughter had turned into this, I would've been just as confused as they were.

Because even I didn't know why.

It had started five months ago, when I'd decided to return to work and make something more of myself than just being a housewife.

The first few days were uneventful, however, the following week, the child I carried for nine months, endured over ten hours of labor to bring into this world, and lovingly raised for seven years—suddenly began to hate me?

Or had she always felt this way, and I simply hadn’t noticed?

“Zora, you shouldn’t talk like that,” my husband Adrian said. His words eased some of my pain—but only for a moment. Then, the cruel irony of what came next cut even deeper. “If Mommy hears you, she’ll get upset, and then she won’t let you see Aunt Beth anymore.”

“Besides,” he continued, “we promised Aunt Beth we’d all go to the amusement park together. You don’t want to break your word, do you?”

“Of course not!” Zora chirped excitedly. “I’ll be really good. I won’t let Mommy find out. Just like when we went camping last time.”

“That’s my girl,” Adrian said, stroking their daughter’s head affectionately.

But the tender scene of father and daughter only burned my eyes.

So that was it. He wasn’t correcting her disrespect toward me—he was just making sure she didn’t ruin his plans with an old flame.

“What’s taking Adeline so long?” My mother-in-law’s voice rang out from inside the room, thick with complaint. “Can’t she even handle getting breakfast? What kind of mother is she? Does she want to starve my precious granddaughter?”

“Grandma, just ignore her,” Zora said. “If Mommy doesn’t come, I can finally eat what I like. When she’s here, she always nags me about everything.”

I tightened my grip on the insulated bag in my hand. Inside was the nutritious breakfast I had spent all morning carefully preparing for my daughter. The hospital corridor air conditioning was blasting, but my heart felt far colder than any draft.

There had been many complications when I was pregnant with Zora. The stress had caused her to be born prematurely. I had always carried that guilt. So from the moment she was born, I devoted myself entirely to being a good wife and mother.

Because Zora’s constitution was weak from the start—her digestive system especially delicate—I was extra strict about her diet. I even earned a professional nutritionist certification for her sake. But my mother-in-law had always scoffed at my efforts. She would never admit that Zora had grown strong and healthy because of my meticulous care.

In her eyes, whenever Zora got sick, it was always my fault—my inadequacy. If Zora recovered, it was all thanks to her son Adrian’s superior genes and their family’s wealth and comfort.

In the past, for Zora’s sake, I never argued. I simply bore the responsibility of raising my daughter in silence.

This year, seeing Zora finally stable, I began considering returning to work. But after only a few days of my stepping back, Zora ended up in the hospital because of their neglect.

No one had remembered that Zora was allergic to carrots. She’d accidentally eaten some and had a severe reaction.

I had stayed by her bedside the entire night. The moment she stabilized, I rushed home without a second’s delay to make her breakfast.

And when I came back—this was what I walked into: my daughter and husband’s family condemning me from behind the door.

I looked down at the insulated bag in my hands and let out a bitter smile.

How had my life come to this?

Once upon a time, I was a highly sought-after genius in the medical field.

Then, a twist of fate brought me to Adrian Carter—the man who had broken both his legs saving my life in an accident that felt almost destined.

To repay his sacrifice, I stayed by his side, caring for him day and night. I had intended to leave quietly once he recovered. But on the night of his rehabilitation celebration, I ended up sleeping with him by accident.

The worst part? Adrian claimed he had been so drunk that night that he mistook me for Elizabeth Sterling—his first love.

My pride wouldn't allow such humiliation. I decided to leave, but his grandfather insisted I stay and forced us into marriage.

Soon after, I discovered I was pregnant. Back then, I told myself it was fate.

So I stayed—for the child growing inside me. And perhaps, if I were honest, for my own foolish love as well.

Eight years of marriage. Adrian and I had never been the picture of romance. But I thought we had a peaceful life—if I ignored his family's constant criticisms.

I never imagined that behind my back, they had already reconnected with his first love, who had just returned from abroad. And my own daughter was part of it.

"Daddy, I want to have a meal with Aunt Beth," Zora's voice drifted from the hospital room again.

"Okay," Adrian replied calmly. "I'll ask her to come over right now."

The next second, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. A message from Adrian lit up the screen.

Taking a deep breath, I opened it.

[Zora is much more stable now. I'll stay here at the hospital with her. You were with her all last night—go home and get some rest. No need to come back.]

Reading those words, the painful truth hit me—this wasn't the first time he had lied to me like this. Playing the part of a considerate husband while actually shutting me out.

A lump rose in my throat. Blinking back tears, I typed a single word:

[Okay.]

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and took one last look at Zora. She was beaming, radiant with joy. It was painfully clear—seeing Elizabeth made her far happier than seeing her own mother.

The wound in my chest tore open again, raw and bleeding.

I turned and walked away, tossing the carefully prepared meal I had made into the nearest trash bin.

By the time I stepped out of the hospital, the tears on my face might as well have never existed. I took a deep breath and felt something inside me clear—like waking from a long fog.

I pulled out my phone, scrolled down to a number saved at the very bottom, marked with a star, and pressed call.

The line connected almost instantly. Thomas's voice came through—calm, familiar.

"Lina, have you finally made up your mind?" He was holding his breath, waiting for my answer.

This time, I didn't hesitate.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I've decided. I'll come back to the company as soon as possible. I'm going to push forward with the latest pharmaceutical research."

"Excellent." Thomas exhaled, a rare note of relief slipping through.

If his new assistant had seen him just then, she would have been stunned. As the president of a world-leading pharmaceutical empire, there were very few things that made him nervous.

"When are you free? I'll send the driver to pick you up."

"Tomorow morning works for me. I have the time."

"Why the sudden rush? Weren't you still on the fence just yesterday—" He paused. Then, his tone sharpened. "Did you fight with Adrian? Did he do something to you? Because I swear, I'll come over there right now and—"

"It's not about him. I was already ready to return."

That wasn't entirely true. I had planned to come back—just not directly to the company, even though Thomas and I had founded it together. But Thomas's business interests clashed with Adrian's, and I worried Adrian might mind.

Well. He could secretly see his ex behind my back while I worried about his feelings. Why should I care about protecting his pride anymore?

Thomas started to say something else, then thought better of it. "All right. I'll wait for you at the company."

I ended the call and opened a message to my best friend, Mikaela.

[Find me the best divorce lawyer in Seattle. I'm leaving Adrian Carter.]