Everything that followed seemed pleasant enough until I gave birth to our son this October. That was when David revealed a completely different side of himself.
"Honey, I’m a man. We’re still married. I don’t think our child should take your surname?"
I was instantly furious and questioned him coldly. "You agreed to this yourself!"
David outright denied it. "Back then, I agreed because I loved you. I gave in to you on everything just to make you happy. Did you really think I meant it?"
I was so angry that I trembled all over. He had clearly broken his promise, yet he spoke so righteously, insisting that all those vows of love were just sweet talk, just meaningless words to make me happy.
If I had the chance in this life, I would run as far away as possible and never have anything to do with him again.
When my parents heard that I wanted a divorce and was cutting ties with David completely, they looked worried.
"But the baby. He’s only a few months old. Can you really bear to let him grow up without a father?"
I looked down at my son, Parry, my gaze soft and gentle. "Who said he doesn’t have a father?"
***