Late at night, neon lights and distant stars filtered faintly through the curtains. The street, once noisy, had fallen quiet, waiting for the next day’s bustle.
Mia lay curled in bed, arms stretched out as if to hold someone, but the space beside her was empty. She fell asleep hugging thin air. Her face was pale in the darkness, calm and still.
Suddenly, her eyebrows lifted slightly, the corners of her mouth turned up, and her body relaxed.
“Darling, I’m home.” Ethan, her husband, spoke in a low, gentle voice. He bent down and kissed her forehead, slipped into bed, and gently placed her arm around his waist.
“You’re back. I waited until I was tired and fell asleep.” Mia was awake now, smiling at him softly.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” Ethan looked at her playfully. “Now that you’re rested… how about some activity?”
“Stop it. We’re in our forties, not kids.” She pushed him playfully, and color returned to her previously pale cheeks.
Ethan pulled her close and kissed her forehead, eyes, nose, neck, and lips. They held each other tenderly.
Mia stirred slightly, clinging to the pillow, still smiling.
“Ethan! What are you doing?” she screamed, standing at the bedroom door. She rushed over and tore off the quilt. The couple in bed was intimate. Mia was confused: moments ago, Ethan was with her — so why was the woman in bed not her?
“How dare you! Get up! I’ll kill that woman!” She pulled Ethan up, but could not see the woman’s face clearly. It looked almost like her, yet not. The woman’s lips moved as if mocking: “You’re not a whole woman anymore. Why hold onto him? You can’t keep him anyway… hahaha…”
“Who are you?” Mia grabbed the woman’s hair, shouting wildly.
She was actually shaking the pillow hard, kicking the empty air, tears streaming down her face, soaking the pillowcase.
Mia jolted awake, turned on the light. Sweat dripped from her forehead; her hair was damp and stuck to her face. She sat frozen, staring at the empty room.
“Why do I keep having this dream?”
Ever since Mia had her uterus removed, these nightmares repeated. Deep down, she feared Ethan would leave her. She no longer trusted him as she once did. She feared his late returns, his business trips, his silence. She felt incomplete, and insecurity consumed her.
Ethan had been away for two days. He said he was going to Tianjin with an old friend but hung up before she could reply. Once, she would not have cared. Now she imagined him with another woman, holding her, betraying her.
She knew she was being paranoid, but could not control it. Every time he spoke to another woman, every late return, every neat outfit made her suspicious. She felt she was losing her mind.
The next morning, Mia dragged herself through the day. She ate a light breakfast, flipped through TV channels aimlessly, and watched the clock, waiting for Ethan.
At noon, Ethan arrived home with a woman and a little girl. Mia jumped up from the sofa, quickly tidied her hair and clothes, forcing a bright but suspicious smile.
“Who is this?”
“Mia, this is my wife. This is my old classmate, Sarah.”
“Hello, Mrs. Carter,” Sarah said weakly, looking anxious.
“Come in, come in!”
“Lily, say hello to Auntie.”
Lily hid behind her mother, shy but polite: “Hello, Auntie. You’re so pretty.”
Mia welcomed them warmly, bringing fruit and books for Lily. She pulled Ethan into the kitchen.
Ethan explained: Sarah’s daughter had been having severe nosebleeds. She came to Tianjin for medical tests, but had no local friends. Ethan had helped them over the past two days, and the results would not be available until Monday.
Mia felt cold. Sarah was Ethan’s ex-girlfriend. She had known this all along, even if she never said it. For the next three days, Mia hosted them politely during the day, but lay awake at night, overwhelmed by jealousy and suspicion.
Thankfully, the test results were reassuring: Lily did not have a blood disease. Sarah and Lily left soon after.
Relief washed over Mia. But the nightmares returned.
One night, Ethan worked overtime and did not come home. Mia dreamed again — and this time, she clearly saw the woman’s face: it was Sarah.
She called Ethan repeatedly, but his phone was off. In a panic, she threw the phone and cried for hours.
When Ethan finally returned, Mia exploded.
“Where were you last night?”
“Working overtime.”
“Why was your phone off?”
“It died.”
“You were with Sarah, weren’t you?”
Ethan was frustrated but gentle. “She has her own family. We’re just helping.”
“I dreamed you were cheating.”
Ethan held her softly. “It was only a dream. Don’t let fear ruin our lives.”
He explained he was exhausted from work, and soon fell asleep, snoring heavily — a sign he was truly worn out.
Later, Mia returned to work. Keeping busy helped stop her anxious thoughts. Her mood improved.
On July 18th, Ethan waited for her at her office and invited her to a fancy dinner.
“Why the treat?” she asked.
“To celebrate you — feeling better, stronger, more like yourself.”
Tears filled Mia’s eyes.
“Mia, be confident. We’ve been through so much together. You built this life with me. I would never betray you.”
They had struggled for years: selling vegetables from a cart, then a truck, then building a fresh-food company. Mia had suffered two pregnancy losses, exhaustion, and poor health. Their love was forged in hardship, not easily broken.
After dinner, the server handed Mia a bouquet of roses. The card read: “To my dearest Mia, happy 17th wedding anniversary. I haven’t been romantic enough, but from today on, I’ll give you one more rose each year until we grow old together.”
Tears fell on the petals. Mia held the flowers tightly. Marriage, she realized, could still be full of love — even without a uterus.