That afternoon, Oliver, who always hated animals, suggested we get a puppy.
While I spent a few seconds teasing the dog, he took a photo and shared it with Anna.
I usually avoid looking through his phone.
But Anna’s messages were too urgent, and I felt a lack of security.
As Oliver took a drag from his cigarette, his phone buzzed relentlessly, ringing over ten times.
“The puppy is adorable, but it doesn’t hold a candle to my cat, Honey.”
“Hey, your ex-wife didn’t teach you how to flirt, did she? Why are you so clueless?”
Oliver didn’t bother to argue. Instead, he sent a shy emoji followed by a hesitant, “Uh… yeah.”
She pressed on, teasing him further, “If you’re just looking to replace Honey, you might as well save yourself the trouble of hanging around all the time.”
Anna’s voice cut through the banter like a knife. “Are you jealous?”
“I told you to divorce her, but you keep putting it off,” she snapped.
“I’m running out of patience. If you think you can play games with me, I’ll go have a chat with the old witch!”
Oliver remained silent, the weight of his indecision hanging heavily in the air.
When he came in from outside, his eyes were red from the smoke.
I don’t remember how I returned the phone to him that day.
I also don’t want to recall Oliver’s careful yet familiar attempts over and over again.
After reading the news, his eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and he hugged me tightly: “The company is too busy lately, and I have too little time for you.
I’m sorry, Lisa.” Then he thoughtfully drove me home, taking a route completely opposite to where his office was.
Once home, I took out the divorce agreement I had read countless times.
The handwriting was mottled and blurred by my tears.
I was tired and cold, so I opened the closet and found the wedding dress we wore on our wedding day.
I stood there, holding the gown in my arms, laughter bubbling up inside me, a misguided attempt at self-encouragement. Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper slipped from my pocket and landed at my feet—a pregnancy test result.
“Anna… she’s pregnant.” The weight of those words crashed over me, and I knelt on the ground, overwhelmed by disbelief.
Sudden speculations overwhelmed me, causing my eyelids to twitch and a wave of nausea to wash over me. Memories flooded back—Oliver had moved in next door when he was just seven years old.