My husband, Julian Vance, had a secret romance when he was young. His first love died tragically, leaving behind only the dog they raised together to keep him company. We’ve been married for three years, and that dog has hated me from day one. It shreds my clothes and has sent me to the ER multiple times. When my friends tried to stand up for me, Julian’s voice was cold: "It’s just a nip. Why are you holding a grudge against a dog?" After I found out I was pregnant, I suggested boarding the dog somewhere else. Julian snapped: "Live with it or leave. Do you ever get tired of being so petty?" In the past, I would have felt ashamed and backed down. But this time, looking at the mess on the floor, I stayed silent for a long time. The bite mark on my shoulder was freshly scabbed and still throbbing. I said, "Then let's divorce." 1 On my third day in the hospital, Julian finally came to see me. I sat on the edge of the bed, eyes downcast, waiting for the doctor to change my dressing. Outside the door, my friends were arguing loudly on my behalf. "Julian, how many times has Snowball bitten Lydia? This time it was her shoulder—any higher and it would have been her throat!" Snowball was Julian's Rottweiler. Fierce, loyal, and aggressive. This wasn't the first time. I got bitten on the calf the week after our wedding. But this was the worst. Half my shoulder was a bloody mess, flesh torn open. It was gruesome. "If you ask me, a dog that dangerous should be put down or rehomed. Lydia treats it like gold, and it acts like a wolf." "Exactly. Careful, Julian, next time it might turn on you. Some dogs just can't be tamed." The voices were a chorus of condemnation against the dog. When Julian pushed the door open, his face was dark. The doctor’s movements were gentle, but the pain still made me pale, a sheen of cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. Julian stood by the door, watching in silence. When the doctor left, his first words were: "It’s just a bite. Why are you holding a grudge against a dog?" He frowned, looking at me like I was being unreasonable. "Lydia, you're twenty-five years old. Tattling to my mother? Have you no shame?" Someone had told his mother I was hospitalized. The Vance and Sterling families go back generations; Julian and I grew up together. His mother was furious and demanded he get rid of the dog. Julian thought I was the one pulling strings behind his back. I suddenly understood why he hadn't come for three days. He was punishing me. I wanted to laugh, but the movement pulled at my wound. It hurt, a deep ache that settled in my bones. I remembered when we first got married. That was my first meeting with Snowball. I knew Julian had a dog, so I bought premium treats and toys. But Snowball growled the moment he saw me and sank his teeth into my leg. When my mom visited me in the hospital back then, I covered for him. "It's fine, he's just scared of strangers. Don't blame the dog." I was afraid my family would hurt the dog, and afraid they would think less of Julian. I was young and naive, full of hope for my marriage. I never imagined that lie would become my nightmare. When Snowball shredded my dresses, Julian told me to stop making a scene. When Snowball dragged mud all over our bed, Julian scolded me for being fussy. And now, with my shoulder chewed to pieces, Julian said the same thing. Don't be petty. Don't hold a grudge against a dog. I used to tell myself that Julian wasn't a stone; he was just slow to warm up. He made me brown sugar tea when I had cramps. He drove ten hours overnight to see me on my birthday when I was away for work. But now, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. In three years of marriage, I had never been his priority. 2 After I was discharged, I took a cab straight to my parents' house. My mom was thrilled to see me, then horrified by my shoulder. I lied again. I said it was just a scratch. During my recovery, Julian didn't call once. I don't know how he convinced his mother, but he kept the dog. In the middle of our cold war, he posted a photo on Instagram: [She didn't leave much behind. Just Snowball, and me.] "She" was Clara. Julian had a secret relationship when he was a teenager. She was his first love, the love of his life. She died in an accident two years later. The comments section was full of sympathy: “Clara was an angel. If she were still here, she and Julian would be married by now.” “Julian is so loyal. I heard he tried to follow her when she died.” Someone asked: “What about Lydia? Why did he marry her?” The replies came fast: “Lydia who? If Clara were alive, Julian wouldn't even look at her.” “Exactly. He’s just trying to move on. Clara would want him to have a normal life.” Amidst the ridicule, I saw Julian’s reply. One word. [Settling.] A few days later, Julian started being seen with a girl. Her name was Sophie, an intern at his company. She looked terrifyingly like Clara. In the photos, Sophie was kneeling, hugging Snowball’s head. The vicious dog looked as gentle as a lamb. Julian stood watching them, a tenderness in his eyes that I had never seen. It rained on our wedding day. The sky turned black in an instant. Maybe that was the omen. My marriage was damp, cold, and forever in Clara’s shadow. But it turned out I couldn't even compete with an intern who just looked like her. I was the only one who had been naive enough to think, "Clouds pass. The sun will come out." I finally understood that the living can never compete with the dead. Because Clara wasn't here, it didn't matter who he married. I was stupid to think I could heal him. Julian never wanted my healing. And now, stripping away the fake warmth, Julian delivered his verdict. Three years of marriage. Just "settling." Just my wishful thinking. 3 Two weeks later, Julian finally cracked. He called, his voice full of accusation: "Have you made your point? When are you coming home?" Maybe he remembered my injury, because his tone softened slightly. "Don't be mad at Snowball. That breed is just loyal. When Clara brought him home, it took ages to train him..." He stopped abruptly, realizing he’d slipped. He changed the subject clumsily. "Anyway, I've trained him. Pack your things. I'll pick you up this afternoon." The ride back was suffocatingly silent. Julian handed me a bag, his voice stiff. "I bought you spicy rice cakes. Your favorite." I didn't take it. The doctor said no spicy food while the wound was healing. But Julian clearly didn't care to remember. Seeing I didn't take it, he assumed I was still sulking. He scoffed and threw the bag into the backseat trash bin. "Eat or don't. I don't care." The air in the car dropped another ten degrees. No one spoke until we got home. 4 "I bought the new season from that brand you like. It's all in the closet." To be fair, Julian wasn't a terrible husband on paper. He remembered birthdays and anniversaries. He wasn't stingy with gifts, and I had unrestricted access to his cards. Whenever we fought, he would smooth things over with expensive presents. So I always thought he was just emotionally constipated, that deep down, he cared. I hated myself for still having a shred of hope. I clutched my stomach and opened the bedroom door. But instead of designer clothes, I was greeted by chaos. The bed, the sofa—everything was covered in shreds of fabric. Our wedding photo in the center of the room had been smashed. Red fabric scraps floated in the air like bloody feathers, mixing with the shattered glass on the floor. Snowball was lying in the middle of the bed, covered in mud from the garden. He had deliberately rolled in the dirt before jumping onto the sheets. Julian froze. He frowned and called the dog over. Turning to me, he looked uncomfortable. "I didn't know he’d do this. It’s just clothes. I’ll buy you more. Don't yell at him." Snowball trotted over slowly, bumping his heavy head against my leg as a provocation. He dropped something from his mouth. It was a bracelet. Julian’s face went pale. He kicked the dog instinctively. "Why do you chew everything?! Do you know whose that is?!" Snowball didn't know, but I did. It was the bracelet Clara gave Julian. He treated it like a holy relic. Unlike our wedding rings. Several pieces of the bracelet had rolled into the glass shards. Julian was on his knees, frantically picking them up. He didn't even look at me. I walked over and picked up our wedding ring from the debris. "Snowball is too destructive. We need to board him." I took a deep breath. "You want me to stop being mad? Send the dog away." I could tolerate it when it was just me. But I was pregnant. I wouldn't risk my child. Julian looked up, his eyes icy. "Lydia, there's a limit to my patience. You're being petty. It's not like you..." I pressed my hand over my stomach, cutting him off. "Either I go, or the dog goes. Pick one." My ultimatum snapped whatever patience he had left. He stood up and kicked the chair over. "Live with it or leave! Lydia, I’ve given you enough face. You target that dog every day. Are you annoying or what?" In the past, I would have apologized. But looking at the ruins of my bedroom, I stayed silent. My shoulder throbbed. I said, "Then let's divorce." I pressed my hand flat against my belly. He didn't need to know about the baby. This child wasn't wanted. Its father didn't love its mother, so he wouldn't love it either. 5 The divorce was quick. Julian looked furious until he realized I was serious. Then he signed the papers with a flourish. "I didn't know you were such a shrew, fighting with a dog." His voice was cold, laced with disappointment. "If I had known, I never would have married you." Three years of devotion, repaid with the word "shrew." I packed my bags that night. Before I left, Snowball blocked the door. Julian called him, but the dog wouldn't move. Snowball was staring at the bag in my hand. I realized it was a toy I had bought to bribe him. He hated it, so I never even opened the package. Since I was leaving, I was taking everything I paid for. I’d donate it to a shelter. I was done trying to please ungrateful beasts. Julian dragged the dog away by its collar. As I walked out, I heard Snowball whine. I didn't look back. I heard Julian scolding him: "She's heartless. She dumped you. Stop begging. Have some dignity." I was the heartless woman in his narrative. 6 Outside the operating room. When the doctor asked me one last time if I was sure, my hand twitched on my stomach. It felt like the little life inside was high-fiving me through my skin. My mother had health issues; I was an only child. My grandmother only had one daughter too. This baby might be the only family I would ever have. I wavered. I told the doctor I needed to think about it. I called my best friend, Mia, to pick me up. As I walked out of the clinic, I ran straight into them. Sophie was clinging to Julian’s arm, laughing. Julian saw me. He frowned and stepped forward. "What are you doing here? Are you sick?" I slapped his hand away. "None of your business." His eyes darkened. Before he could speak, Sophie shimmied over. "Julian, the movie is starting. Let's go." She pretended to notice me for the first time. "Oh, hi! Do you know Julian? I'm Sophie, his girlfriend." She emphasized the word girlfriend. She knew exactly who I was. Mia arrived just in time to hear that. She exploded. "Girlfriend? They were married! You're a homewrecker, and you're bragging to the ex-wife?" Sophie’s face fell. She looked at Julian with teary eyes. "Julian..." With that face so like Clara’s, Julian melted instantly. He looked at me coldly. "We're divorced. I didn't know what love was until I met Sophie. She is my partner now. Show some respect." Mia gasped, staring at me. I hadn't told her about the divorce yet. "Julian, are you crazy? You divorced her? Do you know Lydia is..." I tried to stop her, but it was too late. "...Lydia is pregnant! You divorced a pregnant woman to be with a mistress? Are you human?" Silence. Sophie froze. Julian’s head snapped up. He stared at my stomach. He grabbed my wrist, ignoring my struggle. "Lydia, is it true?" He touched my belly, his voice trembling. "Is our child in there?"
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