My Husband Chose To Die For His Ex

After forty years of marriage, my husband swallowed a bottle of pills and killed himself the day he heard his ex-girlfriend had died. He left a suicide note. Every single word blamed me for keeping him apart from the true love of his life. My son blamed me for driving his father to death. In the dead of winter, he threw me out into the snow. I froze to death right on my own front porch. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my husband found out she had terminal cancer. This time, before he could even open his mouth, I spoke first. "I want a divorce." The moment the words left my mouth, the entire room fell dead silent. Today was my husband Richard's sixtieth birthday. He had invited a huge crowd of buddies over to celebrate, packing three long tables in our house. I had been up since four in the morning, running to the grocery store, prepping the meat, and cooking non-stop. Richard had spent the whole time standing around, barking orders at me. Our son, Jason, and his wife, Chloe, were lounging in the living room playing with their kid, refusing to even step foot into the kitchen. Ever since I married Richard forty years ago, this was how my life had been. I took care of everything by myself. Neither of them even knew where the salt was kept in the pantry. No matter how exhausted I was, I had swallowed it all down over the years. So why couldn't I take it anymore today? Because just minutes ago, while that table of old men was drinking and reminiscing about their youth, someone brought up Vivian. One of them sighed, "Haven't you guys heard? Vivian was diagnosed with advanced cancer a few days ago. The doctors said she has six months at most." Vivian was Richard's ex-girlfriend. Back then, she dumped Richard because he was dead broke, running off to Europe with some rich heir. She stayed away for over thirty years and only moved back to town alone a few years ago. Hearing the news about his precious first love, Richard broke down after a few beers. He slumped over the table, bawling his eyes out. "If it wasn't for that venomous bitch Evelyn, I never would've lost Vivian all those years ago! Now she's dying, and we barely got to see each other again!" "I've loved her my entire life! If she dies, I don't want to live anymore either!" The men around him either patted his back or cheered him on. Only I stood behind the kitchen door, cold from head to toe. If Richard had loved Vivian all these years, what was our marriage to him? I bore his child, took care of his aging parents, and broke my back running this household. In the end, to him, I was just the "venomous bitch" who kept him from his soulmate. I had spent my whole life walking on eggshells for this family. What gave Richard the right to treat me like dirt? In my past life, it happened the exact same way. The moment Richard found out Vivian had cancer, he abandoned everything at home to play devoted caregiver at her hospital bedside. He had high blood pressure, diabetes, and a history of heavy drinking. I tried to stop him out of concern for his health, but in his eyes, that made me an evil monster. The day Vivian passed away, a heartbroken Richard wrote a suicide note and overdosed. My son blamed me for killing his father. He kicked me out into a blizzard, and I froze to death on our front porch. Since God gave me a second chance, I decided to give my husband exactly what he wanted. I pulled out our marriage certificate, walked up to Richard in front of all his guests, and asked for a divorce. Still reeking of alcohol, Richard stared at me blankly. Jason immediately yanked my arm, hissing under his breath, "Mom, what the hell are you doing in front of all these people?" "You're sixty years old! Aren't you embarrassed to throw a tantrum about divorce?" "Besides, look at yourself. Who would even want an old woman like you? Let me warn you, if you dare divorce Dad, don't expect me to ever see you as my mother again.” “Forget about me taking care of you when you're old!" I looked up, staring calmly at the son I had birthed and raised. His eyes were filled with disgust. Not an ounce of love or respect. Remembering how ruthlessly he shoved me out into the freezing cold in my past life, my heart hardened. "I'm not throwing a tantrum. And I don't need you to take care of me." His face darkened, and he shoved my hand away. "Fine! Do whatever you want! Let's see how long you can keep this tough-guy act up. When you're too old to walk, don't come crying to me!" By now, Richard finally processed what I had said. Unlike my son, he stumbled toward me, his eyes wide with hope—and pure excitement. "Evelyn, are you... are you serious? You're really willing to divorce me?"I nodded. "If you're ready, we can head to the courthouse right now to file the paperwork." He practically scrambled into the bedroom to change his clothes, terrified I would change my mind. "Yes! Yes!" He grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the front door. "Let's go. Right now." The guests were completely dumbfounded by how desperate he was. Someone tried to stop him. "Richard, man, you're hammered. Why don't you sleep it off before making any rash decisions?" Richard cut him off with a loud laugh. "Help yourselves to the food and drinks, boys! Make yourselves at home! I've got private business to handle." "Evelyn finally agreeing to set me free is the best damn birthday present I've gotten all year!" With that, no one said another word. The clerk at the family court probably hadn't seen many grey-haired couples rushing in for an uncontested divorce. She tried to offer a few words of mediation, but Richard snapped at her. "Save the lecture. We're both doing this voluntarily. Just file the papers." The clerk shook her head. "You need to file the petition first. There's a mandatory thirty-day waiting period before you can finalize the decree." Richard clicked his tongue in annoyance. "What a pain." He turned to me, narrowing his eyes. "You're not going to back out on me, are you?" I rolled my eyes. "You flatter yourself." The moment we stepped out of the courthouse, Richard dropped all pretenses. He hailed a cab and took off straight for the hospital without looking back. I walked back home alone, taking my sweet time. By the time I unlocked the front door, the guests had already left. The living room was a disaster zone, trash scattered everywhere, and dirty dishes piled high on the tables. Jason was knocked out on the couch, snoring loudly. Chloe was sitting on the floor with our six-year-old grandson, Leo, watching cartoons. She barely spared me a glance when I walked in. This family had always treated me like this—a live-in maid, a shadow they could ignore whenever they pleased. Looking at the greasy plates and half-eaten food, a wave of exhaustion hit me. I had never felt so suffocated in this house. I didn't want to spend another second here. I walked into the bedroom, packed a few changes of clothes into a bag, and turned to leave. Seeing that I wasn't cleaning up the mess like I usually did, Chloe panicked and stood up. "Mom, where are you going?" I kept walking toward the door. "Away for a couple of days." Hearing the commotion, Jason rubbed his eyes, stumbled over, and grabbed my arm. His forehead creased in irritation. "Mom, what kind of drama are you pulling now?" "You humiliated our whole family today! Isn't that enough? What else do you want?" I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at him blankly. "I'm not pulling anything. As soon as the waiting period is over, your dad and I are officially done." He blocked the doorway, refusing to let me pass. "No way. You're not walking out of this house today." He pointed at the chaotic living room. "If you leave, what happens to all this? Who's gonna clean it up?" Then, realization dawned on his face, followed by sneering contempt. "Don't tell me you threw that big scene at lunch just to get out of doing chores?" A loud buzz rang in my ears. Fury flared through my veins, and before I could stop myself, I slapped him across the face. "Did I eat all that food by myself?" "I bought the groceries, I cooked every single dish, and I hosted all your dad's friends!” “The birthday gifts and cash they brought went straight into your and your father's pockets! Why the hell should I be the one cleaning up your mess?" "You expect me to wipe your ass forever? Are you a giant infant with no hands? If I divorce your dad, are you two going to starve to death in a pile of your own filth?!" Stunned by the slap and the scolding, Jason's face flushed red with humiliation. He gave me a hard shove, pushing me out the door. "You crazy old hag! You've lost your damn mind!" "Get lost then! Go drop dead for all I care!" The door slammed shut in my face with a deafening bang. I stood there in silence for a long time. Then, clutching my bag, I walked away from the house I had lived in for decades. I drove out to my parents' old house in the countryside. Since they passed away ten years ago, the place had sat empty. I only came by once a year to dust it off. Pushing open the creaking wooden door, the smell of damp earth greeted me. Only when I stepped across the threshold did the heavy suffocating weight on my chest finally begin to lift. Because this place belonged solely to me now. No one was going to wake me up at five in the morning demanding I find clean socks for their kid. No one was going to drag a bunch of drunk buddies home while I was burning up with a fever, expecting me to cook them a feast. Here, I could eat when I wanted, sleep when I wanted. I was free.I had the best sleep of my life. But at five the next morning, my phone started buzzing relentlessly. It was Jason. The second I answered, his irritated voice barked through the speaker. "Mom, Leo wet the bed! What setting do I put the washing machine on for kids' clothes?" Ever since Leo was weaned, Chloe complained that he was too noisy at night, so they dumped him in my room to sleep with me. The questions kept coming, rapid-fire. "Do I use liquid detergent or powder? Can I wash his clothes and socks together? Where the hell are his spare pants kept...?" Finally, he lost his temper and yelled, "Old woman, answer me!" I hung up without a word. I had only been gone for one day, and he was already falling apart? Well, he had decades ahead of him to figure it out. I went back to sleep and woke up around eight. When I opened the front door, Jason was standing there, his face thunderous. "Why didn't you answer my calls?" Seeing that I had no intention of answering, his tone softened into a wheedling whine. "Mom, I came to pick you up. Stop acting out and come home with me." See? Even after everything, they still thought I was just throwing a childish tantrum. They were convinced I couldn't survive without them. Jason spoke as if he were doing me a huge favor. "Dad's losing his mind in his old age. Don't take it out on the rest of us. You can't just abandon the house! Don't you care about your grandson?" "You weren't there last night, and Leo cried for hours begging for you. You're the one who raised him! If you suddenly vanish, how is he supposed to manage?" I missed my grandson, but I hardened my heart. "I'm not going back." "I spent forty years waiting on all of you hand and foot. I'm exhausted. For whatever time I have left, I just want to live for myself." "Not as someone's wife, not as someone's mother. Just me." Jason stared at me for half a minute as if I had spoken in alien gibberish. "Fine, you stubborn old bat! Act tough!" "Let's see how long you last out here. I hope you don't come crawling back, begging on your knees!" "I'm warning you, my patience has limits. If you keep spitting in my face when I'm giving you an out, I'll pretend you were never my mother!" Having hit a brick wall, he stormed back to his car and sped off. Finally, I had a few days of total peace. Living alone was bliss. Without endless chores, the days stretched out long and sweet. Naturally, someone just had to come and ruin it. In the middle of the night, Richard blew up my phone with calls. "Evelyn, I'm bringing Vivian home tomorrow. Cook something nice to welcome her." "Oh, by the way, she's sick, and the doctor said no spicy or greasy food. Keep it bland, and buy plenty of fresh seafood—it's good for her recovery..." He rattled on and on. I almost burst out laughing. Waiting on him wasn't enough; now he expected me to nurse his dying mistress? Did I look like a registered nurse running a charity ward? "Richard, we're not legally divorced yet. What the hell do you think you're doing? You're already moving your side piece into our house?" There was a pause on the other end. "Evelyn, don't tell me you're getting cold feet?" "Let me tell you right now, this divorce is happening! I promised Vivian that the second our papers go through, I'm marrying her.” “ I'll take care of her as her lawful husband, and when she passes, we're being buried in the same plot!" "Even if you want to regret it now, it's too late!"