I Divorce the Man Who Saves Me

My name is Nancy Xavier. Seven days stretched on like seven centuries. The mountain wind, heavy with damp cold mist, seeped through the cracks of the dilapidated cabin. I huddled in the corner, staring at the cobweb-covered beams, my nails digging deeply into my palms. The scratches on the wooden table leg were marks I carved each day—one, two... until the seventh, still accompanied by fresh wood shavings. Suddenly, piercing car headlights appeared in the distance, cutting through the darkness of the deep mountains. The engine noise grew closer, mingled with chaotic footsteps and shouts. My entire body stiffened, like a fish frozen in ice, forgetting even how to breathe. "Nancy! Nancy Xavier!" It was Ethan Green's voice. That impeccably dressed, ever composed lawyer was now stumbling toward the cabin. His shirt was torn by branches and stained with mud; his usually meticulous hair was tangled like a haystack, his face streaked with tears and dirt, looking both disheveled and unfamiliar. "Nancy! I found you! I found you!" He suddenly burst through the creaking wooden door and held me tightly. His grip was so fierce it felt as if he wanted to meld me into his very bones, squeezing my ribs until they ached. Around me were the clamorous voices of police and villagers, the flashlight beams so blinding they made it impossible to keep my eyes open. But all I felt was cold—a chill seeping from the marrow of my bones, coursing through my veins, freezing me until even my fingertips trembled. At the moment of rescue, I felt no relief of survival, only one thought— I must leave him, utterly and forever. Returning to the once-familiar city, the air was thick with the scent of disinfectant. The hospital's white ward was like a vast prison. The walls were white, the sheets were white, even the sky outside the window was shrouded in a veil of grayish-white mist. The nurse came daily to change the dressings; the mercury in the thermometer hovered around 36℃; the electrocardiograph machine emitted its steady 'beep beep'—yet none of these could quell my resolute heart. Ethan Green remained by my side without ever leaving. He brought a folding chair and placed it beside the bed; his eyes were bloodshot, and the bruises beneath them looked as if stained with ink. He would peel apples, the peel coming off in one continuous strip, yet when he handed it to me, I was too indifferent even to look at it. "Nancy, I'm sorry. It was I who failed to protect you." He held my hand, his voice hoarse, like sandpaper scraping. His hand was warm, the pads of his fingers calloused from years of holding a pen. But I recoiled sharply, as if I had touched a branding iron. Ethan Green's hand froze mid-air, a flicker of astonishment in his eyes, like a cat caught by its tail. "Ethan," I looked at him, speaking each word deliberately, "let's get a divorce." He was stunned, his pupils contracting slightly, as if he hadn't heard me clearly. "What did you say?" "I said, divorce." I repeated myself, my voice low but unwavering. Each word felt as if it had been pulled from an ice cellar, imbued with a biting chill. Ethan Green's face instantly turned pale—paler than the walls of the ward. He abruptly stood up, the chair sliding back half a meter with a harsh creak that sounded especially jarring in the silent ward. "Nancy Xavier! Do you even know what you're saying?" His voice trembled with incredulous anger, his fists clenched white. "I searched for you seven days and nights! I was going mad, do you understand? Now that you're safe, you tell me you want a divorce?" "Yes." I met his gaze without the slightest hesitation. The red veins in his eyes spread like a spiderweb, yet my heart remained unmoved. "I know exactly what I am doing." "Why?" he growled, his chest rising and falling violently. "Just because... just because that happened? Nancy Xavier, I don't care! I truly don't care!" "It's not because of that." I gently shook my head, the chill in my heart growing deeper. In that pitch-dark cabin, when the kidnappers threw me into the straw pile, all I smelled was mold and the stench of urine. At night, a mouse ran across my instep; I was so frightened that I dared not move. Each time footsteps came outside the door, I thought Death had arrived. But in those moments of despair, I did not wonder whether he would come to save me; instead, I asked myself—why had I fallen into such a predicament? Perhaps, from the very moment I married Ethan Green, some things were already fated.