1

In ten years of marriage, my husband domestically abused me seven times.

For the sake of giving our child a complete family, I chose to endure it time and time again.

But after the seventh time, my son, who comforted me warmly, turned around and called my husband.

"Daddy, you can stay at the cemetery with Aunt Weiwei; I've already comforted mom for you."

"You should tell Aunt Weiwei that An'an loves her just like Daddy does!"

"Seven years ago, if Mom had been willing to donate a kidney to Aunt Weiwei, she wouldn't have died. Mom is the murderer who killed Aunt Weiwei, and I hate her."

At that moment, my heart turned to ashes.

That night, I had a lawyer draft divorce papers and sent 200 pages of evidence of domestic violence to the court.

But after I left, my husband and son frantically searched for me, begging for forgiveness.

1

In ten years of marriage, my husband abused me seven times.

And each time after he sobered up, he would kneel and apologize to me, weeping bitterly.

"Miao Miao, I'm sorry, I promise I'll stop drinking, I assure you this time is real, I will change!"

The same words, I have heard for seven years.

Seven years ago, because I was ill and unable to donate a kidney to his beloved Lin Wei, Lu Chen blamed her death on me, harboring a deep hatred towards me.

On the first anniversary of Lin Wei's death, he drunkenly stormed into the bedroom, hitting my head with a hammer, leaving me covered in blood.

He cried while dragging my hair, smashing my head against the hard floor, "Why wasn't it you who died!"

"When Xiaowei couldn't wait for a kidney donor, it hurt a thousand times more than this!"

When he sobered up, he still took my barely alive body to the hospital.

Kneeling by the bedside, he apologized through tears.

He hoped I would forgive his impulsiveness for the sake of the child.

For the sake of a complete family for our child, my initial desire for divorce softened again.

However, my tolerance did not bring him back.

Every anniversary of his beloved, he turned into a madman bereft of reason.

The second year, he poured boiling water over me, resulting in severe burns.

The third year, he dragged me by my hair to the beloved's gravestone, forcing me to kowtow and apologize.

...

Until today, after his abuse, he knelt on the ground, cautiously applying medicine to my wounds, begging for my forgiveness.

But after applying the medicine, he glanced anxiously at the clock, saying, "I have something to do, need to go out, I'll compensate you tonight when I come back."

Saying so, he put on his coat and hurriedly left, not forgetting to drape a blanket over me as he left.

I knew he was going to visit Lin Wei's grave.

Every anniversary of Lin Wei, he would spend some quiet time at her grave, to enjoy their exclusive world of two.

On a sweltering midday in midsummer suffocating with heat, my heart felt as if it were frozen in an ice cellar, utterly devoid of warmth.

Looking at the scarred face in the dressing mirror, I took a deep breath and slowly opened the drawer.

In the depths of the drawer lay six injury reports, each marked with the date of violence, all coinciding with Lin Wei's anniversaries.

These reports, like rings of a tree, recorded the decay of the marriage.