The Price of Your Shadow

When my wife went into labor, she insisted on having her childhood crush in the delivery room. Even though I was upset, I reluctantly agreed. Yet the moment the baby was born, she cradled him in her arms and showed him to him first. Standing beside the bed, her crush looked at the newborn and asked, "Who do you think he looks like?" Without a second of hesitation, my wife replied, "He definitely looks like you." My heart turned to ice. The child I had spent months celebrating wasn't mine. I could feel the sympathetic, uncomfortable stares of the doctors and midwives burning into me. Seeing my reaction, my wife scrambled to cover it up: "Babe, I was just kidding! Don't take it seriously." I sneered. "Congratulations to you both. I wish your little family all the happiness in the world." The moment the words left my mouth, the room fell dead silent, save for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors. Everyone's eyes snapped toward me. Shock, confusion, and even a few eager glances waiting for a scene. Every nurse and doctor in the maternity ward knew me as the model husband. From Chloe’s very first ultrasound all the way to delivery, I had waited on her hand and foot. I could recite every lab result and prenatal precaution from memory. They probably assumed I was just lashing out in jealousy over her close bond with her best guy friend. Chloe went on the offensive before anyone could say a word. Ignoring the nurses trying to hold her back, she grabbed the plastic water pitcher from the bedside table and hurled it straight at me. "Leo, are you insane?!" "I just went through hell to give you a child, and you're standing there giving me an attitude?" "If it weren't for you, would I have had to suffer through all of this?" She rattled off accusations like gunfire, every syllable heavy with venom. After years of trying to conceive with no luck, the specialist told us IVF was our only option. Truthfully, rather than watch the woman I loved suffer, I would have gladly chosen a child-free life. She was the one who insisted on having a baby, swearing she wouldn't let anyone look down on her. It was her PCOS that made conceiving difficult, yet behind closed doors and among friends, she constantly insinuated that I was the broken one dragging her down. To spare the feelings of a pregnant woman, I had swallowed all her baseless blame and verbal abuse. A sharp burn stung my elbow. I looked down and saw my skin turning an angry, scalded red from the warm water. In Chloe's eyes, I was merely her doormat. A loyal dog expected to obey without question. Whenever she was in a bad mood, no matter where we were, she never hesitated to hit me or tear me down. And only after she vented her rage would she smile sweetly and say: "Men who spoil their wives get rich." "You should thank your lucky stars you have a woman who brings you good fortune. Otherwise, your startup would've never gone public." With one flippant remark, she claimed every ounce of my success as her own, erasing every sleepless night and sacrifice I had made over the years. This time, she lashed out because I had hit a nerve. Her fury was nothing more than panic and guilt. "Chloe, he's not worth getting worked up over," Ashton said smoothly, comforting her while shooting me a smug, provocative smirk. Ashton. Chloe's childhood friend, and the one that got away. How close were they? Close enough that when she went into labor, she threw a fit demanding Ashton be right there holding her hand. I truly had been a pathetic husband. I pulled out a paper towel, calmly wiping the water off my shirt, and looked up. "You couldn't even deliver a baby without him by your side. As your husband, how could I stand in the way of your true love?" "Tell you what, I'll send over the divorce papers later. Consider it my baby shower gift." I placed Chloe's phone back on her bedside tray. Her eyes widened in shock, rendering her speechless. She honestly believed that giving birth gave her ultimate leverage, that I would fall to my knees in gratitude and apologize like I always did. As I walked past Ashton, I patted his shoulder and said pleasantly, "I hope you two grow old together." He stared at me, completely stunned, unable to tell if I was being serious. He had only intended to humiliate me a little. He never expected me to hand him the whole prize on a silver platter. "Leo, what... what are you talking about? Chloe and I are just friends. It's not what you think!" "If it bothers you that much, I won't come around anymore, okay?" Chloe couldn't bear to see Ashton humble himself. Her teeth ground together audibly, and her eyes flashed with pure malice, as if she wanted to rip me to shreds with her bare hands. I clenched my fists. A wave of bone-deep exhaustion washed over me. If she weren't glued to the bed right after giving birth, she would have lunged at me and slapped me across the face already. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even have a son to carry on your name! Trying to throw me away now that I've done the work?" she shrieked, her eyes bloodshot. "If you don't apologize to Ashton right this second, don't you ever think about seeing your son again, you pathetic loser!" Ashton lifted his chin, clutching the infant against his chest with a look of pure triumph. I let out a cold laugh. What kind of man gets cuckolded right in front of his face and falls on his knees to apologize? Chloe waited with her head held high, dead certain that I couldn't live without her. That arrogance drove every word out of her mouth. For seven years, I had tolerated her temper, indulged her tantrums, and smiled through her constant disrespect. And in return, she called me a loser. A doormat gets discarded in the end. I slipped off my wedding band, flicked my wrist, and watched it trace a clean arc through the air before dropping straight out the open window. A chill spread across my lips. "Keep the boy. Let him cry at your funeral instead."A seven-year marriage ended the very day the baby took his first breath. My mom had flown in from my hometown carrying several containers of homemade soup, having spent all morning in the kitchen getting ready to bring them to Chloe. I stopped her at the door. Seeing the confusion in her eyes, I finally spoke. "Chloe and I are done." "What about the baby?" "She keeps him. I'm walking away." With a loud clatter, the containers slipped from my mother's hands, spilling rich broth across the floor and filling the room with an overpowering smell. The whole world revolved around Chloe, but Chloe's world only had Ashton in it. Seven years ago, Ashton left her behind to study abroad. If he hadn't, I never would have stood a chance with her. First loves always leave the deepest scars. I thought seven years of devotion would carve out a sacred space for me in her heart. In the end, it was pure delusion. Until Ashton came back into our lives—tall, handsome, with fair, polished skin. He wore a braided bracelet identical to Chloe’s. Years ago, when she accidentally dropped hers into a resort pool, she sobbed hysterically and begged me to find it. I spent hours until the maintenance crew drained the pool to get it back. Holding that soaked bracelet, she laughed through her tears and caressed it like a priceless treasure. She introduced him as her childhood friend. Just how good of friends were they? Good enough that she needed him present for the most intimate moment of her life. Did I hate it? Of course. I just hid it well. My phone started buzzing relentlessly in my pocket. Looking at the string of transaction alerts popping up on the screen, I knew it was her usual playbook. Whenever she was mad, she maxed out my credit cards in a frenzy of revenge spending. All her shopping accounts were linked to my primary card; every bill had my name on it. In the past, I let her burn through money without a word. I worked myself to the bone just to see the woman I loved smile. Now, the thought of my hard-earned money funding her and another man made my blood boil. She wanted to spend my money while keeping her pretty boy on the side? In what dream world? After being a total sucker for seven years, it was time to wake up. I opened the banking app immediately, unlinked every authorized user, canceled the cards, and prepared to fight back. Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, Chloe blew up my phone. The second I answered, she screamed into the receiver: "What kind of man are you? Being petty over a few thousand dollars! You disgust me!" "Are you listening to me, Leo? We aren't divorced yet! Half of your money is mine!" "Turn those cards back on right now, or I'm getting a lawyer to sue you for everything you have!" Through the receiver, Ashton’s voice cut in, panicked and whining: "Those sneakers were limited edition! Missed the drop by one second! Dammit..." I paused, shaking my head. So she was buying gear for him. No wonder she was throwing such a fit. I almost admired the sheer audacity. Even in a situation like this, she felt entitled to my money. Taking my silence for intimidation, her tone grew smug and vicious: "What, scared now? Then crawl back here on your hands and knees and beg for my forgiveness—" I nearly laughed out loud. I cut her off gently: "Chloe, if we don't get divorced, you won't see a single dime." I was done playing the smiling cuckold bankrolling her lover. She was flirting with Ashton right in front of my face; why should I tolerate another second of it? Clearly caught off guard by my blunt defiance, she erupted into shrieks of pure rage through the speaker. "Leo, you said it, not me! Tomorrow morning, nine o'clock sharp at City Hall to sign the papers!" "Deal. Whoever doesn't show up is a coward." I hung up, walked over to the framed wedding portrait on the wall, took it down, flicked my lighter, and watched the canvas burn before dumping the ashes straight down the toilet. Perhaps my obsessive devotion was what made her this reckless. If there was no love left, tearing it off like a band-aid was far better than slow torture.I still underestimated Chloe’s lack of shame. I expected her to show up on time, but after waiting outside City Hall for hours, she was nowhere to be seen. I dialed her number dozens of times. Nobody picked up. Some people would rather drag you down in misery than give you a clean break. Exhausted, I dragged my feet back to the apartment. The moment I pushed the door open, the sight before me knocked the wind out of my lungs. Chloe was lounging on the couch scrolling through her phone. My mother was holding the baby, gently bottle-feeding him, beaming from ear to ear. And most sickening of all, Ashton strolled out of my kitchen holding a craft beer I had just bought the other day. He looked entirely at home, while I felt like an intruder in my own house. Unable to swallow the rage rising in my chest, I stormed over and shoved Ashton hard. The beer slipped from his grip, shattering and foaming across the floor. "You shameless piece of garbage! You think this is your house? Get the hell out!" The baby wailed in terror at the noise. My mother hurriedly carried him into the nursery, completely oblivious to what was going on, and rushed out to plead with me to calm down. "Leo, she came back. That means she wants to make it work! Think of the baby and just be patient..." A bitter lump formed in my throat. I couldn't bear to tell her the truth, terrified her heart wouldn't take the shock. Chloe tilted her chin up, glaring at me with contempt. "What are you screaming about, Leo? We're still married. What's wrong with me having a friend stay over?" "Ashton stayed at the hospital taking care of me! Instead of thanking him, you're barking at him? Where's your conscience?" "Besides, we haven't settled child support yet. I'm not signing any divorce papers until that's sorted." I let out a harsh laugh. Raising a child was undeniably expensive. Neither she nor Ashton had real jobs; how were they going to afford him? Why on earth should I raise another man's kid? Chloe thought she was keeping a master secret, never suspecting that I already knew everything. The day of the delivery, while Ashton was with her in the room and I was waiting outside, I glanced at her iPad that was syncing her SnapChat messages. She and Ashton had exchanged texts months ago. "Did he notice the sperm sample was swapped?" Ashton had sent, accompanied by a laughing emoji. "Relax, my friend at the clinic handled it. Totally covered." "Thanks for granting my wish. I just hope he gets your good genes." "If he turns out with his family's coarse skin, I swear I'd rather strangle him." Reading those vile, shameless messages had hit me like a sledgehammer. Chloe had constantly mocked my tanned, rough skin compared to Ashton’s pale, delicate complexion. To keep her living in luxury, I had run under the blazing sun pitching clients every single day. How could I compete with Ashton, who spent his days using sunblock and sheet masks? She was so obsessed with him that she would rather commit medical fraud to have his child under my name. When love is gone, cruelty comes easy. If I hadn't been worried about my mother's health, I would have thrown all the evidence in their faces right then and there. "I'm not paying a cent of child support. But if you sign the papers, I'll sign the deed to this condo over to you." I had spent enough money on her over the years. I wasn't going to be her ATM for the rest of my life. The condo was under my name alone, but for the sake of an innocent child, I showed a sliver of mercy. Caught off guard by my coldness, Chloe's arrogance faltered, and she began to sniffle softly. "Can you really be this cruel to a child? You want him to grow up without a father from day one?" "Even a wild beast protects its young. For the baby's sake, can't we talk this through?" I sneered inside. It was precisely because of the baby that I had to leave. She assumed I was still the obedient fool who would move heaven and earth the moment a single tear fell from her eye. I didn't even look at her. Seeing no reaction from me, her mask dropped instantly. "Leo, don't push your luck! I'm humbling myself begging you, and you're acting like this?" "If you dare divorce me, I'll expose your true colors to the world!" "I'll let everyone see what kind of monster hides behind the 'doting husband' mask! A deadbeat who won't even support his own son!" I looked up at her twisted, screaming face. Anyone passing by would think she was the one wronged. Ashton stood up, putting on an air of righteousness. "We're all adults here. No need to push things to extremes." Hearing him speak made my skin crawl with disgust. Two snakes wrapped together, acting like they held the moral high ground. I didn't lose my temper. The realization that I would never have to grovel to this woman again brought a strange sense of peace. I kicked both of them out and locked the door behind them. The apartment finally went quiet. My mother gave me a harsh lecture, completely misunderstanding the situation, before packing her bags and heading straight back to her hometown. Some pain was better carried alone than shared with family. Throwing myself into work numbed the ache, or perhaps it was just a convenient distraction. A notification buzzed on my phone. A text from my best friend popped up: "Leo, you need to check your wife's live stream right now." His frantic tone caught me off guard. When I clicked the link to Chloe’s stream, I finally saw what she had been plotting over the past few days. On screen, her eyes were red and swollen from crying, clutching the wailing baby in her arms. "My deadbeat husband abandoned his wife and newborn. He doesn't deserve to be called human."