I Threw My Marriage in the Trash

On our wedding anniversary, I came home with a heart full of excitement, ready to give Ethan a surprise.

But when I opened the door, I saw him cuddling Chloe Miller on our living room sofa. They were whispering, far too close. And at first glance, I noticed the ring on Chloe’s finger.

It was my wedding ring—the one I cherished more than life itself. Faced with my hysterical confrontation, Ethan just held Chloe tighter.

He looked at me, his eyes dead and indifferent. "It’s just a ring, Elena. If Chloe likes it, it’s a treasure.

If she doesn’t, it’s trash." To teach me a lesson, he snatched the ring from her finger and threw it directly into the trash can right in front of my face.

At that exact moment, the fight left me.

I realized this marriage should have been thrown in the trash a long time ago. "Ethan, let’s get a divorce." "Elena Vance, do you even hear yourself?" Ethan snapped instantly.

He slammed his wine glass onto the floor right at my feet, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. I felt a sharp piece graze my ankle, but I couldn’t feel any physical pain.

My eyes were glued to the trash can where my ring now lay. That discarded ring felt like a knife driving straight into my heart.

I wanted to take a step forward, to bend down and fish it out. But my legs wouldn't move.

It was as if all the energy had been drained from my body. "I said, I want a divorce." I took a deep breath. Those words took every ounce of strength I had left.

My chest felt so heavy, like a giant boulder was crushing my lungs. It was hard to breathe. "Ethan, babe, don't be so harsh.

Elena is probably just talking out of anger." Chloe stood up. She gently patted Ethan’s back, putting on a perfect show of comfort.

Her words sounded sweet, but when she looked at me, her eyes were dripping with smugness and mockery. "Elena, you really don't need to throw a tantrum like this.

Threatening Ethan with divorce is a bit much." "If you want to blame someone, blame me. I saw the ring sitting in the corner of your nightstand.

I honestly thought it was something you didn't want anymore, so I—" "You went into my bedroom?" "Who gave you the right to walk into my room and go through my things?" I stared at Chloe in disbelief.

But as soon as the question left my mouth, I realized how stupid it was.

In this house, who else but Ethan could have given her the key and the permission to make herself at home? "That’s enough, Elena!" Seeing his precious Chloe looking flustered by my questions, Ethan stepped in, his face darkening with rage. "Stop acting like the victim all the time.

Stop throwing tantrums in front of Chloe." "Chloe can go wherever she wants in this house. It’s just a stupid ring. You never even wear it.

Who are you putting on this dramatic show for?" My mouth opened, wanting to explain. But looking at the two of them—Ethan holding Chloe protectively in his arms—I shut my mouth.

Over the years, Ethan had gifted me plenty of expensive jewelry. But this ring was the only one I kept in my nightstand drawer.

Because this was the only ring Ethan had actually placed on my finger himself.

Unlike those expensive, thoughtless gifts bought by his assistant to keep me quiet, this ring had warmth. No matter how cheap it was, it was priceless to me.

But Ethan didn't get it. Actually, in our five years of marriage, he had never cared to understand anything about me. "Fine.

Just think of it as me throwing a tantrum." I let out a selfdeprecating laugh. But that laugh seemed to trigger Ethan even more.

Like always, he decided to give me the cold shoulder. He didn't want to waste another word on me. He wrapped his arm around Chloe and turned to leave. But today was different.

His steps toward the door were unusually slow. I knew what he was waiting for.

He was waiting for me to run after him, beg him to stay, apologize, and admit I was wrong, just like I always did. But this time, I stayed put. Five years.

I had begged, humbled myself, and pleaded too many times to count. And what did I get in return? His contempt, his disgust, and his complete indifference. I was exhausted.

I walked over to the sofa and sat down. My eyes caught my reflection in the dark screen of my phone. The sight shocked me. Dull, lifeless skin. Sunken cheeks. Soulcrushed eyes.

I hadn't even realized how haggard I had become. I was only twentyseven. Seeing that I wasn't begging him to stay, Ethan stopped right at the doorway.

He looked back, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. Just as he was about to say something, Chloe tugged at his sleeve. Chloe leaned in and whispered something in his ear.

Instantly, Ethan’s eyes iced over again. Chloe didn't bother to keep her voice down. She wanted me to hear it. She said, "Women know women best, Ethan.

She’s just playing hard to get to keep you here." "You need to teach her a lesson." Without a second thought, Ethan slammed the door shut, leaving with Chloe.

He didn't see the look Chloe gave me right before the door closed. She mouthed three words: He is mine.

Ethan didn't come home for days, which was highly unusual.

In the past, by the second day of his silent treatment, I would have already sent him dozens of texts, apologizing and begging him to come back.

And after making me squirm, he would reluctantly "agree" and return home. But not this time. I was sick of apologizing. I was never doing it again.

I called a lawyer and had them draft a divorce agreement. Maybe because she noticed my silence, Chloe posted a new update on her Instagram.

It was a photo of her and Ethan holding hands tightly against a sunset. On their fingers were matching rings engraved with their initials. The caption read: Forever and always.

I knew she did this to get under my skin. So, I didn't hold back. I doubletapped and liked the post. Then, I left a comment: Wishing you two the best.

Just then, my lawyer emailed me the finalized divorce papers. By the time I finished reviewing them and went back to Instagram, Chloe had already deleted the post.

A second later, my phone vibrated.

Ethan was calling. "Elena, what the hell is the meaning of your comment on Chloe’s Instagram?" "Chloe already felt incredibly guilty about our argument.

Because of your petty comment, she just cried herself to sleep!" "What are you even throwing a fit for?

Don't forget, you used dirty tricks to force your way into the Reed family in the first place!

You stole Chloe’s rightful place!" "Chloe is being nice enough not to hold a grudge, but you just can't stop, can you?" Hearing him scream through the phone, my heart felt completely numb.

There was no pain, just emptiness. After a long silence, I spoke calmly. "I’m not throwing a fit, Ethan.

Since you think I wronged her, I’m stepping aside." "My lawyer has drafted the divorce papers. Come sign them when you have time." The line went dead silent. He seemed stunned.

He wanted to say something, but I hung up on him before he could. Even though I didn't care about his harsh words anymore, listening to them still felt like a waste of energy.

Ethan’s refusal to show up was draining my patience. I didn't want to wait anymore. Any good memories I had of him had already been burned to ashes.

Now, I just wanted to leave this prison. I rarely went out, and Ethan never let me accompany him to public events. Naturally, my wardrobe was incredibly sparse.

Before leaving, I wanted to erase every trace of my existence from this house. I packed meticulously, leaving no corner unchecked.

I decided to take all the jewelry in the safe and sell it for cash later. I knew very well that after being a housewife for five years, I was completely disconnected from society.

The knowledge and skills I once excelled at in college had faded over time. Before divorcing Ethan, I needed financial security.

I counted the jewelry pieces one by one until the safe was almost empty. Just as I was about to lock it, I noticed a tiny box hidden in the very back corner.

I pulled it out and opened it. The moment I saw what was inside, a sharp, suffocating pain pierced through my chest. It was an engraved silver baby locket.

It belonged to my baby boy, who didn't even get to celebrate his first birthday.

In our second year of marriage, I got pregnant. During those ten months, Ethan and I had the only warm, peaceful period of our marriage.

He would come home early to walk with me, accompany me to every prenatal checkup, and carefully watch my diet.

He would rest his ear against my belly and talk to the baby, just like any normal, loving father.

Those days were so beautiful that I actually believed he had started to care about me.

I thought our love had finally bloomed, and that he would be a great husband and a wonderful father. Ten months later, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Ethan named him Leo.

Looking at Ethan holding the baby with such warmth in his eyes, I was sure I had finally found my place in his heart. I thought my suffering was over.

Our little family was going to be happy. But the day before Leo’s Christening party, Chloe returned to the country.

After Ethan’s grandmother passed away, to prevent Chloe from causing trouble around Ethan, the Reed family had pressured her family to send her abroad.

I never expected her to come back. But she did, and she showed up right at my son’s Christening. Her arrival instantly drew all of Ethan’s attention.

I could see the lingering affection and longing in Ethan’s eyes when he looked at her. But after being apart for so long, neither of them made a move.

Until Chloe walked up to me, holding a handmade organic lavender sleep pouch. She said she had made it herself to help the baby sleep peacefully.

I didn't want to accept it and was about to decline, but Ethan snatched it and hung it over Leo’s crib. He told me not to waste Chloe’s sweet gesture.

I felt uncomfortable, intending to take it down after Chloe left. But after that day, Chloe kept visiting under the excuse of wanting to see the baby.

Every time she came and saw the pouch wasn't near Leo, she would cry to Ethan, claiming I despised her and her gift.

Ethan would then throw a massive fight, demanding that I keep the lavender pouch next to Leo at all times. Little did I know, that was the start of my worst nightmare.

Slowly, Leo’s health began to deteriorate. He would startle awake crying, vomit, have diarrhea, and break out in severe red rashes. I took him to the hospital countless times.

The doctors said it was an allergic reaction. But Leo was only a month old, and he was exclusively breastfed.

I knew he had a severe peanut allergy just like Ethan, so I was extremely careful with my diet, never touching anything containing peanuts.

We ruled out every possible allergen, but Leo only got worse. I had to watch my baby boy waste away, crying in pain every single day, without knowing what was killing him.

Until one night, he went into shock from a high fever and was rushed to the ER. He never opened his eyes again. When the doctor told me they couldn't save him, my soul left my body.

I collapsed completely. I had already lost my parents and my grandmother. I thought I had no blood relatives left in this world.

And when I finally had this baby, God snatched him away too. I fell into a dark, endless depression, losing twenty pounds in less than a month.

But deep down, I knew Leo’s death wasn't an accident. I ruled out every single possibility, and my maternal instinct told me there was something wrong with that lavender pouch.

I ripped the pouch open. Inside, there was no organic lavender. It was stuffed with peanut powder. A blinding, murderous rage consumed me. I wanted to tear Chloe to pieces.

I found Chloe at Ethan’s office. After returning to the country, Ethan had hired her as his personal assistant. I didn't even need to think to know why.

He just wanted an excuse to keep her close. But I didn't care about that anymore. I barged into Ethan’s office like a madwoman.

In front of all the employees, I threw things at her, screaming and asking why she murdered my baby.

To show Ethan the true, evil face of his beloved first love, I slammed the peanutpowderfilled pouch onto his desk.

But all I got in return was a hard, ringing slap across my face from Ethan. "Stop using our dead child as an excuse to go crazy!" "Leo is already gone.

What is the point of you harassing Chloe like this?" I couldn't believe my ears.

He spoke so casually, as if the one who died was just some stray animal, not his own flesh and blood. "Ethan! That was our son!

How can you be so coldblooded?" I screamed at him, tears streaming down my face. The sheer injustice and rage almost choked me.

Chloe cowered behind him, her delicate face covered in tears and innocence. But underneath that act, I saw the venomous, triumphant smirk on her lips.

Back then, I didn't understand how she could be so fearless. Now I knew. It was love. She had all of Ethan’s love and protection. And I had absolutely nothing.