Lovestory 5 – Chapter 1

In the seventh year of our marriage, my husband wanted to hold a wedding ceremony for me. But unbeknownst to me, the venue had been changed at the last minute. After waiting five hours at the mountaintop hotel, I felt utterly foolish. My husband's so-called sister then posted a photo on social media. The picture showed two figures in snow-white attire, their lips touching, a picture of a perfect couple. The caption read: "In this lifetime, you and I are not destined to be together; we can only be siblings. In the next lifetime, I will definitely be yours."

I laughed and replied, "No need to wait for the next lifetime. Now that he's tainted, I'll let you have him this one."

Almost instantly, Joaquin Griffin called. His tone was confrontational. "Diana, do you find it fun to act like a jealous woman? Nyla cried when she saw your post!"

I was confused. "Why did she cry? She didn't even feel shame kissing my husband!"

His voice choked, then he recovered, arguing forcefully, "It was just a simple kiss! Your mind is filthy, seeing everything as dirty."

A simple kiss? I laughed incredulously. For seven years, I had been the subordinate in our relationship. I believed that by making concessions, he would understand and appreciate me. Some people are insatiable; each compromise only encouraged them to push further. This photo was the final straw. I was exhausted.

I interrupted him, saying slowly, "Let's get divorced."

Joaquin fell silent. Just as I was about to hang up, he hesitantly said, "You're not being rational. I promised my daughter I'd pick her up from school. Let's talk when I get home."

Wearily, I hung up and tried to hail a taxi. The weather had turned gloomy, and no cars were going up the mountain. I decided to spend the night at the hotel. I was exhausted from the day and my period. After checking in, I immediately fell asleep.

I don't know how long passed when the telephone rang. Groggy, I answered to hear an anxious voice: "Diana, why haven't you picked up Lia yet? It's almost eight o'clock."

I felt as if cold water had been splashed on me. I sat up abruptly, asking in a daze, "Didn't her father pick her up?"

"No, Joaquin's phone is unreachable, and it took me three tries to reach you as well. Can you parents be a little more attentive?"

Blushing with shame, I apologized and rushed to get ready. After a hurried call to Ms. Colter, I immediately called Joaquin. The phone went unanswered. Thoroughly disappointed, I used a ride-hailing app. For nearly half an hour, no car responded. I paced the lobby, the rain pouring and thunder rumbling. Suddenly, lightning flashed. Something seemed to flicker before my eyes, and I inexplicably opened my phone. Nyla Moreno's original post had disappeared, replaced by a new one:

"Someone treating me like a child really made me happy. Even when I was bullied, I wasn’t afraid because he stood up for me and even prepared a table full of food that I love."

The picture showed a man in a bear apron. I recognized Joaquin instantly. I was lost in thought. Married for seven years, he had never set foot in the kitchen. I had sometimes expressed envy of colleagues whose husbands cooked, to which he would sneer, "I'm a grown man! How could I possibly cook? Don't be so ungrateful. I earn so much money, isn't that enough to hire a cook?"

I chuckled silently, but the rain continued. Hesitation gone, I opened the door and ran out.