No point to retain or maintain Any ended marriage

Really No point to retain or maintain Any ended marriage 

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My husband and I haven't had intimacy for a very, very long time.

Yesterday, when I got home from work, I saw him changing clothes in his room. On a whim, I went over and gently touched him.

But he suddenly turned his head, his eyes filled with coldness and disgust.

His gaze was so shallow and cold, like a tiny thorn piercing my heart. My hand froze in mid-air, extremely embarrassed. I quickly withdrew it, awkwardly saying, "I was just passing by."

I immediately ran away, hiding in the kitchen, not daring to look at him again.

That night, I couldn't sleep at all.

The house is eerily quiet now. He sleeps with his, I sleep with mine. We live in the same house, yet we're more distant than strangers. Even the TV is rarely turned on; the air is filled with only awkwardness and coldness.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and hear her turning over in the next room. She's not asleep, and I just stare blankly at the ceiling.

The only thing in the whole house is the clock on the wall, ticking away, each tick echoing in my heart.

My daughter is currently staying at her grandmother's house, saying it's convenient for her tutoring and studying.

But I know in my heart that she doesn't really want to come back.

Last week she called to say she has exams at the end of the month and told me not to pick her up. I quietly hummed in agreement, without asking any further questions or saying anything more.

Thinking back to when she was little, she's completely different. Before, she would rush home after school, immediately take off her schoolbag, and yell "Mommy!" Now? She's even too lazy to reply to a sticker on LINE, taking half a day to reply.

Everything changed starting with a surgery three years ago.

I had surgery to remove uterine fibroids, and most of my uterus was removed. The doctor said my recovery was going well, but I would never be able to conceive again.

Actually, I didn't want to have any more children. My daughter is already ten, and I've never considered having a second child.

But my husband wouldn't allow it.

His family only has one son, and his grandparents nag him constantly, saying that the son must carry on the family line, otherwise their lineage will be cut off.

I told him directly, "Whether the family line continues or not has nothing to do with me. I'm not your family's baby-making machine."

He didn't argue or fight back then, just remained silent. But from that point on, he completely changed.

After that, he started staying out all night for extended periods, always saying he was working overtime or socializing.

I'm not stupid, why would I believe that? He never left his phone on the table, he even took it into the bathroom when showering, he was never without it.

The truth finally came out when I helped him with his coat.

I found an ultrasound report in her coat pocket. It wasn't mine; it belonged to a strange young woman, dated last month.

I held the report and sat there all night. I didn't cry, didn't yell, didn't lose my temper, but my heart felt empty, as if a large piece had been ripped out.

The next day, I got up early as usual to make her breakfast, frying her favorite sunny-side-up eggs.

While eating breakfast, she said, "The cooking time was just right today."

I just quietly watched her talk, wanting to smile, but unable to.

Last month, due to the heavy rain, her car's windshield was damaged, so I took it to the mechanic to fix it.

While the mechanic was repairing it, he turned on the dashcam system, and a bunch of videos popped up. Only then did I finally give up completely.

The video showed him arguing with a girl outside a hotel, and a scene of a girl crying in a car. The most heartbreaking part was a clip of the girl sitting in the passenger seat, legs up, wearing the slippers I bought for my husband last year.

I immediately grabbed my tools and pulled out the memory card.

Back home, I microwaved the memory card for thirty seconds.

The acrid smell of burning plastic made me cough incessantly, but I felt no relief, only a chill in my heart.

The day before yesterday, I finally mustered the courage to confront him.

I calmly said, "Let's get a divorce."

He sat on the sofa, smoking one cigarette after another, ignoring the ash that fell onto the carpet.

Finally, he looked up at me, his face full of disdain: "Are you trying to threaten me with divorce again?"

I was completely stunned. All my sadness and despair, in his eyes, were just me throwing a tantrum and trying to get his attention.

I earnestly reiterated, "I'm not threatening you, I'm serious." But his cold reply shattered my last hope: "If you really want to, I'll go and get the paperwork done right now and add his name to the property deed."

I burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face.

I questioned him, "Are you crazy? The down payment for this apartment was from my mom selling her old apartment, and the mortgage payments for seven years have been deducted from my salary!" He exhaled a puff of smoke, his attitude flippant and selfish: "But the property deed is in my name." Yesterday, I went to the household registration office alone.

I didn't go in, I just stood at the door watching. Watching couples go in to register, take photos, their smiles radiant.

I used to be like that too. Ten years ago, wearing a white wedding dress, he helped me put on a ring, his hand trembling.

I used to think it was nervousness, but now I realize that the shock I felt back then probably wasn't from being moved at all, but from being forced and unwilling.

This morning, before he left, he casually tossed out, "Not coming home for dinner tonight."

I just grunted and continued washing my dishes.

The water was too cold, and my hands cracked in several places. Blood seeped out, mixing with the dish soap, a stark contrast of red and white, so glaring.

I looked at my hands and suddenly remembered what my mother told me before she died: "A woman should never tie her life to a man. If she ties it too long, when she tears it off, it will be with skin and flesh, tendons and bones."

Now we sleep in separate rooms.

He moved to the guest room, claiming that his snoring would disturb me. How ridiculous! I haven't heard him snore in so long.

The room was eerily quiet at night, except for the sound of running water, like shouting or laughing.

Last week, I secretly went for a gynecological exam.

The doctor said my ovarian function was starting to decline and suggested I consider assisted reproductive technology as soon as possible.

I gave a bitter laugh: "My daughter is almost taking her high school entrance exams, why would I have another child?"

The doctor answered me very seriously: "Many people just want a chance."

I walked out of the hospital; the sunlight was blinding. I stood at the door, stunned, for a full ten minutes.

Later, I bought a cup of full-sugar bubble tea.

The first sip, and I broke down crying. It wasn't too sweet; it was that I realized I hadn't truly pampered myself in years.

I often wondered, if I hadn't made a move that day, could I have kept pretending everything was normal?

But now I've finally woken up.

Even if I didn't make the first move, the thorn was already there. It was just me who never dared to expose it, never dared to face it.

This marriage had long since withered away; it was just me foolishly holding on for so long.