Forced Love, I Don't Want It Anymore1
My husband, David Federer, had my mother, Fiona Miller, brave the pouring rain to buy sanitary pads for his beloved, Freya Fox.
Tragically, Fiona slipped and fell on her way, and a speeding car took her life.
In her final moments, she clutched that bag of pads tightly.
I was shattered and dialed David's number over and over, desperation clawing at me.
Finally, when he picked up, his voice was laced with rage. "What the hell? Why is your mom taking so long to grab a simple thing? Freya's waiting for them! You need to hurry her up!"
That was the last straw.
Heartbroken and disillusioned, I decided to file for divorce.
But when I told him, he broke down, pleading with me not to leave.
——
I followed the will and buried Fiona alongside my father, Vincent Miller.
For three straight days, David, my husband, didn't bother to call.
After relentless phone calls on my part, he finally blocked me.
At that moment, I knew I was done with him for good.
I drafted the divorce agreement and waited for him at home, expecting him to show up.
Finally, just after midnight, David walked in.
He took one look at me and snapped, "Did you send your mom out shopping until the cows came home? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was when Freya was rushed to the hospital in a bloodstained dress?"
All I could think about was the pain in my heart when Fiona was brought in, covered in blood.
Yet here he was, more concerned about his mistress' reputation than anything else.
I scoffed as I tossed the divorce papers at him. "Sign it, David. I'm giving you the freedom you wanted!"
He never wanted to marry me in the first place. After we tied the knot, he brought Freya home to humiliate me, flaunting their relationship in front of my face.
He even got her a job at his company, parading her around like a trophy while I, the real Mrs. Federer, was forced to hide in the shadows.
I thought he might at least show some respect for my mother, but he didn't even consider her feelings.
Just two weeks ago, when I found out I was pregnant, I confided in Fiona, who was over the moon and stayed with me for a few days.
On the day of her accident, I had stepped out for a bit, only to find out later that David had brought Freya home and sent Fiona out in the pouring rain to buy her sanitary supplies.
Since Fiona had fallen in the bathroom a year ago, her mobility had been compromised.