My mother was stunned, though her voice carried a trace of excitement. "You’ve made up your mind?"
"But wait—you’re pregnant! Research isn’t a vacation, and I doubt Leon would agree."
I took a deep breath as I answered, "Mom, I’ve decided to get a divorce."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
"Alright," she finally said. "I support you. Your father and I are scientists, and you have extraordinary talent. I never agreed with you sacrificing your potential for marriage in the first place."
"Get ready. For security purposes, I’ll expedite the process to cancel your residency. We’ll pick you up in a week."
After the call ended, I leaned back on the hospital bed, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes.
For Leon, I bid farewell to my parents years ago and stayed with him overseas.
I could still remember the day he knelt on one knee, promising me, "Sharina, I will love you forever, till death do us part. You are my one and only. If I ever betray you, may I die a horrible death."
Back then, I was so moved that I covered his mouth, not wanting him to utter such ominous words.
It turned out his "forever love" lasted only eight years.