Blurb：
In this emotional contemporary fiction, Robert’s wife Sarah keeps requesting divorce to fulfill her terminally ill ex-husband Ethan’s dying wish. After ninety-nine subtle hints, Sarah finally sends a blunt text demanding divorce – the same day Robert loses their child in a tragic accident. When Robert encounters Sarah and Ethan shopping happily just days later, Sarah’s coldness reveals her true priorities. This heartbreaking story explores marriage, loss, and the painful reality when one partner emotionally checks out. Follow Robert’s journey as he navigates grief, betrayal, and ultimately finding strength to let go. Perfect for readers who enjoy emotional dramas about complicated relationships, terminal illness tropes, and stories of personal transformation after tragedy.
Content：
Every time my wife goes to stay with her ex-husband who has a terminal illness, she hints about whether we can get divorced.
Because his biggest wish before he dies is to make their relationship official.
Today, she hinted again.
I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just calmly said, Okay.
Because this kind of conversation has happened ninety-nine times.
And today is the one hundredth time.
I’ve finally found a reason to convince myself to divorce.
Our child has passed away.
Now, all that remains between her and me are two thin marriage certificates.
Seven days after our child’s death, I ran into Sarah at the mall.
She was carrying numerous shopping bags, and the tenderness in her eyes as she looked at Ethan was overwhelming.
But the moment she saw me, her face soured.
What are you doing here? Didn’t we agree to get divorced first? Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind?
She looked at me defensively, her cold gaze piercing straight into my heart.
Ethan glanced at her sideways, then awkwardly looked at me,
Rob, don’t misunderstand. Sarah just really wants to marry me.
Then, he subtly glanced behind me, a smug smile on his face.
Our wedding is set for next week. You’re welcome to bring the baby to celebrate with us.
I instinctively clenched my fist but before I could speak, Sarah interrupted.
How could he come? He’s just a stay-at-home dad with a newborn. What if something happens? It’d be bad luck.
My hand hung at my side and went stiff. Once again, I was stunned by Sarah’s cruelty.
You don’t think Ethan’s terminal illness is bad luck.
You don’t think going to the hospital every day is bad luck.
But you think me taking care of our own baby at home is bad luck.
How ironic.
But then again, I’m not Ethan. Why would I deserve your concern?
Otherwise, you wouldn’t have known our child needed vaccinations but never showed up.
If only you had asked me just once, you would have known.
Our child is already gone.
When I didn’t respond, Sarah didn’t seem to care. She lowered her head and started discussing wedding details with Ethan.
I watched silently, countless scenes flashing through my mind.
Since Ethan was diagnosed with a terminal illness, Sarah became a different person.
She stopped caring about our child and didn’t want to come home.
Her sudden disappearances became routine.
At first, she said, Robert, Ethan is seriously ill. I have to be there for him.
Don’t worry, I just feel sorry for him. It doesn’t mean anything.
Later, she said, Robert, Ethan’s last wish is to marry me. I don’t want him to die with regrets.
I knew what she was implying, but I didn’t want to understand.
She hinted like this ninety-nine times.
I found ninety-nine reasons and refused ninety-nine times.
Until the one hundredth time, she stopped hinting.
That day, I had just taken our child for this year’s third vaccine. Right after leaving the hospital, I received a text from Sarah.
No concern, no comfortjust a cold, blunt message.
[Meet me at the courthouse at 9 AM the day after tomorrow. We’re getting divorced.]
Sixteen words that completely shattered me.
By the time I regained my senses, our child and I had been hit by an out-of-control vehicle.
That day, I held our child’s gradually cooling body and called Sarah countless times.
But in the end, the only call that went through was to 911.
The doctor told me our child had passed away.
I lay in the hospital bed, waiting from night until morning, only to receive one message from her:
[Stop calling me so much. The ringing is annoying.]
I stared at the message, biting my lip until it bled.
Sarah, I’ll give you what you want.
From now on, there will be nothing left between us.
I wish you happiness.
The memory abruptly ended there.
Sarah nudged me and reminded me flatly, Remember to come with me to finalize the divorce tomorrow. Don’t pretend to be sick again.
I froze for a second, then remembered.
Three days after the accident, Sarah called me.
It was the only call she made. She was standing outside Courthouse.
At the time, I had just finished a night on an IV and was in terrible shape.
I accidentally pressed the speaker button when answering, and Sarah’s impatient voice filled the entire room.
Robert, what’s your game this time?
We agreed to finalize the divorce at 9 AM. It’s already noon. What excuse are you using this time to say no?
Under the nurse’s pitying gaze, I struggled to keep my voice from trembling and whispered, I’m in the hospital.
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end, but it quickly returned to normal.
I heard Sarah scoff lightly. Whatever. Stop making excuses. I’ll give you one last chance.
Next Wednesday. Meet me at the Courthouse.
After the call ended, the nurse didn’t say anything and quietly left.
The moment the door closed, all my dignity was completely destroyed.
That was when I realized the most painful thing isn’t the hurt from someone you love.
It’s the pity from bystanders when that person hurts you.
I closed my eyes, pulling myself out of the quagmire of memories.
Okay.
Sarah raised an eyebrow and continued, After the divorce, just focus on taking care of the child at home. Don’t bother me unless it’s important.
Okay.
Maybe because I agreed too readily, Sarah seemed taken aback.
She let go of Ethan’s arm and looked at my pale face.
How’s the baby? Has he been good lately?
The moment she asked, my eyes welled up.
I used all my strength to hold back the sob in my throat.
He’s good. Very good.
So good that even when he left, he didn’t want me to suffer too long.
Afraid I wouldn’t be able to control my emotions any longer, I didn’t dare say more and turned to leave.
As I passed by, I noticed the lipstick mark on Ethan’s collar.
It was the exact same shade as Sarah’s lipstick.
And the exact same shade as the blood on the pavement that day.
Walking past a children’s clothing store, an employee enthusiastically stopped me.
Mr. Robert, the clothes you ordered earlier have arrived.
Can you take them today?
I was about to say no, but my eyes unconsciously fixed on the poster of a little boy.
If my child had grown up safely, he would have been just as adorable.
While I was lost in thought, the employee quickly packed the clothes and handed them to me.
It was a pale yellow knit sweater.
Yellow was Sarah’s favorite color.
I stared blankly at the tiny clothes in the bag and fled the mall in embarrassment.
The moment I closed the car door, the tears broke free.
How suppressed can a grieving father’s cries be?
Now I finally knew.
It was late at night by the time I got home.
As soon as I opened the drawer, I saw the dusty cigarette box.
Ever since our child was born, I’d forced myself to quit smoking.
I was too worried it would do harm for our child’s health.
I never dared to smoke before, and every time I saw the box, I’d swallow hard.
Now that I could smoke, seeing it again just made me want to cry.
I went to the kitchen and made myself a bowl of chicken porridge.
Just as I was about to eat, I heard the sound of the lock turning at the front door.
Sarah walked in, pulling a suitcase behind her.
I found it strange. Since Ethan’s diagnosis, she hadn’t been home in ages.
Why are you back? Don’t you need to stay with Ethan?
Sarah wheeled the suitcase straight into the bedroom and said offhandedly,
Since I’m marrying Ethan soon, I came back to get my things.
Saves the hassle later.
I hummed in response but couldn’t help recalling Ethan’s words.
[Our wedding is set for next week. You’re welcome to bring the baby to celebrate with us.]
Right. It’s only a few days away.
If she didn’t move her stuff out now, they might be tainted by the “bad luck of me and our child. Better to get it out before it’s too late.
Tears fell into the bowl, disappearing without a sound, just like Sarah’s love for me.
But it wasn’t always like this.
There was a time when she looked forward to our child’s arrival.
There was a time when we were so happy together.
I lowered my head, preparing to finally eat,, but Sarah suddenly spoke up,
You made chicken porridge?
What a coincidence. Ethan didn’t have dinner. This will be perfect for him.
With that, she naturally walked over and took the bowl from my hands.
I stared at my empty hands, momentarily stunned.
It wasn’t until she’d found a clean container that I finally spoke up,
This was my dinner.
Without looking up, she packed the container.
There’s still a pack of cigarettes in the drawer. I remember you used to just smoke a couple instead of having dinner.
My eyes drifted to the cigarette box, and I smiled bitterly.
The baby can’t stand the smell of smoke.
Sarah paused, then put down the container.
Then maybe you could smoke just a little less?
It’s not like our child has any serious health issues. A little smoke now won’t matter.
A sharp ache shot through my nose. I lifted my head, refusing to let the tears fall. Yeah. It doesn’t matter.
Our child is already gone. Of course it doean’t matter.
Maybe sensing my sadness, Sarah sighed and gave me a hollow, brief hug.
Robert, can you hang on a little longer?
Once the wedding is over, I’ll make time for you. Just bear with it a little longer, okay?
I hummed in agreement, but my mind wandered to the past.
[Robert, Ethan needs me. Once he’s in a better mood, I’ll go with the baby for his check-up.]
[Robert, Ethan has a fever. Once he’s done with his tests, I’ll call you.]
[Robert, Ethan won’t let me leave. Once he falls asleep, I’ll come home to you and the baby.]
Sarah, when will you realize I can’t wait anymore?
I gently pulled away from her embrace and handed the container to Sarah.
Go ahead.
Don’t look back.
As she walked out the door, I called out to her.
Sarah, do you remember how many times you’d asked me for a divorce that day?
Sarah’s figure stiffened. Before she could answer, I continued.
The one hundredth time.
Today is the one hundred and first time.
Tomorrow, at the Courthouse. I’ll see you there.
With that, I quickly stepped forward and firmly closed the door.
Leaning against the door, I heard Sarah’s ragged breathing.
She didn’t leave, and I didn’t move.
We were separated by just a 4-inch thick door.
But our hearts were worlds apart.
A moment later, Sarah used her key to unlock the door.
She didn’t step inside but stared at me for a long time.
Finally, she pulled out a small, palm-sized rattle from her pocket and handed it to me.
I saw this at the mall today. I thought our baby would like it.
Those words shattered every last bit of composure I’d mustered.
I took the rattle, immediately close the door, and locked it before collapsing to the floor. Then I cried silently.
I don’t understand why people only realize their love after losing it.
Why give me a glimmer of hope only after I’ve made up my mind?
The rattle fell to the floor, emitting a crisp, jingling sound.
I sat on the floor numbly all night long.
The next day, I left on time.
Right after getting in the car, I got a call from the hospital, asking me to pick up the death certificate I’d left behind.
I hadn’t had the courage to look at it then. I’d left it at the hospital like an ostrich burying its head in the sand.
Thinking that if I didn’t see it, I could pretend nothing had happened.
Now, it was time to face reality.
At 9 AM, Sarah was late.
She looked like she hadn’t slept all night, her eyes bloodshot.
When she saw me, a flicker of disappointment crossed her eyes.
I thought you wouldn’t come today.
I didn’t respond, simply walking into the Courthouse first.
How could I not come?
We’d both waited too long for this day.
Before signing, Sarah suddenly hesitated.
Her pen hovered over the paper for a long time, refusing to descend.
Seeing this, the clerk offered kindly, Since this young lady isn’t sure, maybe you should reconsider.
I smiled faintly, finding it ironic.
If she were truly uncertain, why had she insisted one hundred times?
Sarah glanced at me and whispered:
Robert, once Ethan’s and my wedding is over, we can remarry.
I hummed noncommittally, saying nothing.
I thought, since she’d lied to me so many times, it was my turn to lie to her.
After we got the divorce papers, Sarah’s heart raced.
She felt like she’d missed something, something that left her deeply uneasy.
Outside, Ethan was waiting.
Dressed in a pristine white suit, he showed no signs of illness under the sunlight.
I turned away, motioning to Sarah:
Ethan’s waiting for you.
Sarah nodded awkwardly, but there was no joy on her face.
Ethan walked over, pulling an invitation from his bag and handing it to me with a smile.
Rob, Sarah and I discussed it. We’d still be happy if you bring the baby to our wedding.
Here’s the invitation.
I almost said I didn’t have a baby anymore and wouldn’t be attending the wedding.
But then I noticed Sarah’s tense expression.
Whatever. Since we’re already divorced, what’s the point of saying more?
I shook my head, bypassing them to leave.
A couple bumped into me head-on.
Thud!
My bag fell to the ground, its contents scattering everywhere.
Sarah’s eyes widened, and she rushed to help me up, her concern urgent.
Are you okay? Did you get hur
Her words cut off abruptly.
Her gaze fixed on the death certificate on the ground.
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