A Borrowed Sweater, A Broken Marriage

Chloe quickly grabbed her daughter Lily Mason's hand. "Jeremy, we'll get going. I don't want to cause any more fights between you two."

"Leave her alone, Chloe," Jeremy said, pulling her back. "This isn't your fault. She's just being unreasonable. Let her cool off, and she'll be fine."

With that, he walked straight into the kitchen, brought out the dishes I had made, and sat down with Chloe and Lily to eat.

I was left standing alone in the living room. As laughter echoed from the dinner table, a single tear fell quietly at my feet. At that moment, I finally realized something.

Jeremy thought I was overreacting, and I thought he was cold and heartless. We lived under the same roof, but we were already living in two different worlds.

I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back. When I opened them again, my gaze was clear.

In the end, Chloe left with the sweater.

Jeremy walked up to me, trying to pull me into an embrace. "I was being too harsh earlier. I'm sorry."

I didn't resist, letting him hold me. His body was warm, but that warmth never reached my heart.

I thought back to many years ago, to the days when Eliza was sick. She had lost all her hair, and she didn't want to look in the mirror anymore.

I had knitted that yellow sweater during that time. I wanted to keep her warm and make her look a little less worn out.

When the sweater was finished, Eliza was overjoyed. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled for the first time in days.

"Mommy, look. Do I look like a little bunny?"

Smiling, I nodded, but tears were already falling.

When Jeremy came home, he saw the sweater and merely said, "It looks nice. Don't let her catch a cold."

Then, he went back to his phone call. He was always busy and had something more important than us.

He did contribute—he covered every single medical bill. But he left all the companionship, the agonizing wait, and the absolute despair for me to face alone.

Now, he even wanted to take away my last bit of comfort.

Pulling myself back from the memories, I gently pushed him away. "Jeremy, the words I've heard from you most over the last few years are 'I'm sorry.'"

When I was giving birth, he was busy, so I went to the hospital alone. When Eliza got sick, he was busy, so I took care of her by myself. When Eliza passed away, he was busy, so I handled the funeral alone.

After all of it, he'd quickly say "I'm sorry".

With every apology, my heart broke a little more.

Under the dim lights, Jeremy stood with most of his face hidden in shadow. I couldn't see his expression, but when he looked up, our eyes met. His were empty and devoid of emotion.

My chest hurt sharply.

When I spoke again, my voice broke. "But what I need isn't an apology."

He frowned, confused. "I don't get it. What do you need? Love? We've been married for so long. All that sentimental stuff is just fluff now."

I stared at the man I'd been married to for ten years. His appearance hadn't changed much, but his heart had never beaten for me from the start.

Noticing my silence, he opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang.

He then turned to me and said, "Shirley, don't overthink it. There's an urgent matter at work. I have to go."

He gave my head a pat of comfort and turned to leave. But just as he reached the door, Chloe burst in.

Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to speak. "Jeremy, Lily has a fever. I don't know what to do."

I heard Jeremy's soft voice. "Don't worry. I'll drive you to the hospital right now."

The door slammed shut, and the living room fell silent. The corners of my mouth curled into a bitter smile.

When Eliza was in the ICU, close to death, I never saw Jeremy act this urgently.

A cold wave swept through me.

He didn't love me. I had always known it all these years.