It was 1 AM in the night. The stillness was broken by the shrill ring of my husband's phone. He was a celebrated general, a war king, and exhaustion clung to him after leading his troops.
The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number. He answered, his voice gruff, only to become instantly alert. It was a teammate's pregnant widow – Xiao Zhao. She was terrified, convinced that there were thieves in her house.
Without a second thought, my husband, who was weary after pursuing criminals non-stop for three days and three nights with barely a blink, rushed out of the house, driven by a sense of duty and compassion. Xiao Zhao, especially with the baby coming, shouldn’t be frightened.
He stayed with her until dawn, ensuring her safety, before finally returning home, his face etched with fatigue. Finding me sitting on the couch, apparently untouched, she explained what had occurred and said: Xiao Zhao, the martyr's widow, being the king's squad leader, I should take care of her. Don’t worry though, this wont happen so often, I promise, don't be upset, okay?
Calmly, I pushed her arm off me and spoke, no longer exhibiting my customary support, and said the sentence I'd been afraid to say: Let's divorce!
My usual forgiveness was replaced with an unsettling stillness.