My Husband Celebrated His Childhood's Sweetheart's Dog On My Birthday

On my birthday, my husband of five years accompanied his childhood sweetheart to celebrate her dog's birthday. Avery Simpson published a loving post: [The happiest baby in the world. Mom and Dad will be with you. I hope you're always happy.]

Seeing the words "Mom and Dad", I commented a question mark with confusion. The next moment, I found myself blocked.

Charles Logan called me and lashed out at me. "Why do you always have to mess things up at the worse possible time? You're worse than a dog. How despicable!"

Shortly after, Avery changed her profile picture to one of her and Charles, hands intertwined. When I saw the obvious provocation, I didn't get angry like before. That's because I had already made up my mind to get a divorce.

Charles Logan came through the door, clutching a large bouquet of roses. After he spotted me sitting in the dining room, he walked over and thrust the flowers at me. His gaze lowered as he nitpicked harshly as usual. "You're always eating junk from outside. Look at all this food you've bought. Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You're starting to look like a middle-aged woman. Why is there a cake? Is it your birthday?"

I tried to cover my nose and mouth as I placed the roses in the kitchen. As I wiped the pollen off my skin with a wet wipe, I shook my head and replied, "It was on sale, so I bought it."

He eased up right away with a half-smile. "You sneakily munch on this sugary stuff all the time. No wonder you gained weight."

We had been married for five years. Charles never cared about my birthday, but he remembered every little special thing about Avery Simpson. I would have felt wronged and argued with him in the past, but now I could not be bothered to say a single word.

As I chucked the roses into a corner in the kitchen, Charles rushed over and retrieved them. "Avery helped me pick this gift for you. How could you just toss them away like that? Where are your manners? And what's with the attitude? You scared Avery. Call her right now and apologize."

The pollen wafted through the air. Caught off guard, I inhaled a deep breath of it. My nose swelled instantly, making it hard to breathe. I scowled as I took a step back. "Stay away from me!"

My rejection angered Charles, and he frowned in frustration. "Who said you could be picky? Avery is too good-hearted. You've hurt her, yet she still thought of getting you a gift. Why are you acting all high and mighty?"

With the flowers in hand, he hurried over and forced my raised arm down, pushing my phone into my hand.

I struggled as hard as I could, crashing into the edge of the table as I stumbled. With a loud crash, a plate fell to the ground. Glass shards scattered everywhere, slicing into my leg deeply. The excruciating pain and the suffocating allergy reaction made me scream in agony.

Only then did Charles notice the swelling and redness on my skin. He quickly put down the flowers and held me. His brow furrowed slightly as he dragged me out the door. "Are you out of your mind? Why didn't you say you weren't feeling well? You're so foolish, you brought this on yourself! I'm taking you to the hospital!"

As soon as we stepped outside of our home, Avery showed up with teary eyes. Once she saw Charles, she grabbed him with trembling shoulders. "Charles, right after you left, Buster swallowed the cake candles while I wasn't watching. Now they're stuck in its throat, and I can't get them out. I'm too scared to drive alone. Can you take him to the vet with me? He's dying!"

Hearing Avery's plea, Charles did not hesitate. He immediately let go of me and pushed me aside. He pulled out a handful of hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and tossed them at me. "I'll go with Avery to the vet. Call an ambulance for yourself. It's just some allergies and cuts. You'll be fine after they treat you. Call me when you're done. I'll come get you," Charles said as he walked away without a backward glance.

I lay helplessly on the ground. Dirt and trash clung to my open wounds, and they were painful. I fumbled for my phone, but my throat was so swollen that I could barely give them the full address. Time seemed to stretch on as cold sweat soaked my hair. I blacked out as the telephone operator's voice faded. If no one had come downstairs and discovered me, I might have suffocated right there.

After receiving the allergy shot, I lay weakly on the hospital bed, waiting for the symptoms to subside.

Charles called. The moment I answered the phone, he lashed out at me. "Didn't I tell you to call me? I waited for you at home for half an hour. It's just a small matter. Why are you being so dramatic? How dare you not answer your phone?"