Chapter 2
The clerk examined the marriage certificate from every angle, her voice growing wary. "This number isn't in the system. The certificate could be a forgery."
I felt like all the strength had been sucked out of me.
Three years ago, on the day we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, it happened to be Valentine's Day and the place was packed.
Jordan said he didn't want me to get tired waiting in line, so he told me to wait in the car while he took care of it himself.
When he came out, he handed me the certificate with a smile and said, "Mrs. Holland, here's to the rest of our lives together."
I was so happy when I took it from him that I nearly burst into tears.
Turned out, it was all fake from the very start.
Our marriage? It never even existed in the eyes of the law.
When I walked out of the registry office, my legs felt like jelly.
The sun was shining, and the street was packed with couples holding hands. I stood there on the steps, feeling like a total joke.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Jordan.
Jordan said: [I'm working late tonight, so I'll be home late. Just eat without me.]
I stared at the message for a long time, but didn't reply.
I grabbed a cab to the hospital. I'd been feeling queasy and nauseous for days, so I figured it was just my stomach acting up.
When the blood test results came back, the nurse studied my face for a moment and then spoke softly and carefully. "Ms. Sargent, you're pregnant. About nine weeks along."
I was stunned.
She continued, "The baby's developing well, but your health isn't looking so good. You're not getting enough nutrients, so you need to start eating better right away. It would be best if your husband or a family member could come in."
I dialed Jordan's number.
He didn't pick up the first three calls.
When I called the fourth time, he finally picked up.
"What do you want? I'm busy," Jordan said.
He sounded annoyed, and somewhere behind him, I could hear a woman laughing.
I tried to say something, but the words just wouldn't come.
"If there's nothing, I'm hanging up," he said.
Then the line went dead.
I set my phone down and told the nurse, "No need to call a family member."
The nurse looked worried. "But your condition..."
"Just schedule the abortion," I said.
The nurse was stunned. "What?"
"I don't want this baby," I said.
The procedure was quick.
As I lay on the operating table, I remembered how, two years ago, when my period cramps had me sweating bullets, Jordan was so worried he ran three blocks to buy me some heat packs. He came back with one shoe missing.
Was that really the same guy who wouldn't even answer my calls now?
After the procedure, I asked the nurse to save the remains from the operation.
The day I finally walk away, I would mail them to Jordan myself.
Let that be my parting gift to him.
After I got out of the hospital, I went straight to file for immigration.
The clerk told me it'd take about fifteen business days to get approved.
That was all I need.
When I got home, I started packing up.
All the couple photos, the couple mugs, the dresses he gave me, and a whole closet full of gifts—everything went into boxes and got hauled out to the yard.
Then I set it all on fire, watching it burn to nothing.
As the fire cast flickering shadows on the wall, the sound of the door opening broke the silence behind me.
Jordan stood at the doorway, his brows furrowed as he took in the mess of ashes covering the floor.
"What are you burning?" he asked.
"Just junk. No point keeping things that don't matter," I said flatly.
He didn't press any further and just passed me a shopping bag.
"Here, this is for you. You mentioned wanting that limited-edition bracelet a while back, so I had someone pick it up for you," he said.
I just gave it a quick look.
I really did mention that bracelet three months ago, but he was glued to his phone at the time, so I figured he didn't even hear me. I ended up buying it myself and have been wearing it for two months now.
Now, of all times, he finally remembers.
"I'm good, I already have it," I said.
Jordan's hand froze in midair.
He looked down at my wrist, saw the bracelet, and a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face.
"So... is there anything you've been wanting lately?" he asked.
"I don't want anything," I replied.
I turned and walked upstairs.
He stood there behind me for a long time, and I never looked back.
Early the next morning, my phone rang.
"Audrey? It's Hattie. Bethany asked me to let you know—Georgia's seventieth birthday is the day after tomorrow, and you're expected to be there," Hattie said.
Georgia Holland was Jordan's grandmother, the matriarch of the Holland family.
Ever since I married into the Holland family three years ago, Georgia had always kept me at arm's length.
She never thought I was good enough for her grandson, always looked down on my ordinary background, and never missed a chance to remind me I had no powerful family backing me up.
"Got it," I replied.
After I hung up, I almost wanted to find a reason not to go.
But then I was leaving soon anyway. I would meet her one last time—just treat it as a farewell.
The birthday party was held at the Holland family's old mansion. When I arrived, the place was packed with guests.
Jordan's mom, Bethany, spotted me, and her smile faded a bit.
"You're here? And what are you wearing? Black to a birthday party? Don't you think that's a little inappropriate—trying to bring bad luck or something?" she said.
Today, I wore a simple, sleek black dress.