Spent Eight Years Learning I Don't Belong

I move across the country to Westmere to marry my husband, Nathan Hart. Eight years into our marriage, I finally no longer need him to translate his hometown dialect, Westmerean, for me. I think I've become part of his circle at last. That is, until I see a group chat on his tablet called "The Dirty Dozen". The group consists of 12 people—Nathan, his five childhood friends, their wives, and his childhood sweetheart, Sonia Calloway. I'm the only one missing. The latest messages in the chat are about a camping trip this weekend. Someone asks, "Nathan isn't bringing Elizabeth again, is he? Every time she comes along, we have to speak in proper Crestorian." The chat erupts in laughter. I suddenly remember our last dinner. Speaking in Westmerean, they said they were going to "change venues", but I heard it as "call it a night", so I put on my coat and waited by the door alone. The whole table doubled over with laughter, and though my cheeks burned, all I could do was laugh along. Another time, they were playing Catch Phrase in Westmerean. I got seven answers wrong in a row and ended up so nauseous that I had to run to the bathroom to throw up. When I returned, everyone had already gathered around the table again, laughing and chatting in Westmerean. I didn't understand a word, and no one saved me a seat. When we got home that evening, Nathan told me that I was being too sensitive and that as long as I picked up Westmerean, they'd naturally include me in their activities. So, I practiced along with local TV shows every day, and when I went to the farmer's market to get groceries, I even deliberately bargained in Westmerean. But now, I watch as someone in the group chat turns recordings of me practicing Westmerean into a collection of mocking voice clips and spams the chat with them. Sonia tags Nathan in a message. "Hey, Nate, do you get turned off when you hear her speak like that in bed?" Nathan replies, "That's why she isn't included in the trip this time. We can have more fun without her around." I stare at his message, unable to bring myself to scroll any further. Then, my phone suddenly buzzes with a message from Nathan. "Liz, I just got to Larkfield. I have a business dinner with a client tonight, so go to bed early. Don't wait up for me." Chapter 1 Elizabeth's POV I replied with a simple "Okay", then closed the chat window with my husband, Nathan Hart, and put his tablet back in the study. Messages kept popping up in a group chat called "The Dirty Dozen" with Nathan, his friends, and his childhood sweetheart, Sonia Calloway. They had already booked the campsite and were assigning each person to their tents and deciding who would be getting the ingredients. Someone asked Nathan which tent he would sleep in. Sonia quickly replied with a giggling emoji. "Of course Nate's sharing the big tent with us! Otherwise, who's going to keep night watch?" Nathan quickly replied, "Stop assigning me things." Then, the rest of them in the group immediately began teasing the two of them. "Relax, Elizabeth isn't here. She won't see." Nathan didn't refute it. He just sent a screenshot of a 1,200-dollar transaction—he'd covered the campsite fees for all 12 of them. I stared at that screenshot and suddenly remembered that just half an hour ago, he was on the phone telling me the company was short on funds and asking me to cover the mortgage this month. I agreed readily. Worried about stressing him out, I didn't even tell him that I had gone to the hospital today. The examination report stating that I was six weeks pregnant still sat neatly folded in my bag. When the doctor smiled and asked why my husband wasn't there with me, I made excuses for Nathan, saying he was busy on a business trip and didn't know about the surprise yet. Looking at it now, I figured it was a good thing he didn't know. Otherwise, this child might just end up becoming the latest joke in their group chat. My phone buzzed once with a voice message from Nathan. "Hey Liz, can you marinate those wings in the fridge for me tomorrow? The client likes how you prepare them. I'll come pick them up on Friday." I tapped on the group chat. Sonia had just sent a shopping list, and the last item read, "Nathan will be in charge of the barbecue. His wife's a decent cook, so he can have her marinate the ingredients in advance." Someone replied, "I guess, in a way, she'll be there with us too!" The screen was filled with laughing emojis. I stared at it for a long time, then replied to Nathan, "Got it." He quickly sent a kiss emoji. "You're the best, Liz!" At 11:00 pm, the door lock clicked. Nathan walked in with a bag of the strawberry cake I loved, his shirt carrying an unfamiliar smell of cigarette smoke. "Weren't you in Larkfield?" I asked. He bent down to take off his shoes without even looking up at me. "The client postponed the meeting at the last minute, so I rushed back." "And this weekend?" "I'll have to work overtime," he answered all too naturally, without even batting an eyelid. I nodded and put the cake in the fridge. Nathan then came and hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Why aren't you eating it?" "My stomach's been acting up." "You've been really sensitive lately." He let go of me and casually turned on the TV. "By the way, Mom asked us to go over for dinner tomorrow. She's been nagging about wanting a grandchild again, but just bear with it and don't take her seriously, okay?" I touched the examination report in my bag and asked softly, "Nathan, do you want kids?" He watched the ball game on TV and answered offhandedly, "Of course. Sooner or later, we'll have to have children. But once we have kids, we'll have to make sure they speak Westmerean. I can't have my children speaking with a Briaric accent like yours. It'd sound horrible!" He laughed after saying it. But I didn't. I suddenly remembered our wedding day. My parents had made a ten-hour journey by train to attend it. They couldn't speak proper Crestorian, so when they went from table to table to greet the guests, Nathan's friends mimicked my parents' accent, making the whole table roar with laughter. Dad didn't understand what was going on and just thought everyone was being friendly, so he kept raising his glass and clinking it with theirs. At the time, I told myself they were just joking around. But after eight years of learning Westmerean, only now did I finally understand that in all these years, they had never welcomed me. Nathan fell asleep quickly after taking a shower. Lying beside him, I took the examination report out of my bag. In the lower right corner was the date of my next prenatal checkup, which I had booked in advance. It was set to be at 9:00 am on Monday. I had originally planned to get Nathan to go with me to the checkup. But now, I opened the hospital's appointment app and canceled the prenatal appointment. Then, I booked a gynecology outpatient slot instead. Chapter 2 Elizabeth's POV Over at the Hart residence the next day, Nathan's mother, Meredith Hayes, had prepared a table full of food. But out of the ten dishes, nine of them had cilantro in them, which I absolutely hated. Meredith placed the only dish without cilantro in front of Nathan and said, "You've been busy lately, Nate. You should eat up." The moment I took a bite of the food, however, I instantly felt my stomach lurch violently, so I slapped a hand over my mouth and rushed into the bathroom. "What's wrong?" Meredith asked from outside. "She's got a sensitive stomach and can't quite get used to our food," Nathan replied. Then Meredith, assuming that I wouldn't understand what she was saying, muttered a line in Westmerean, "She's been here eight years and still can't get used to our food? She's really a hard one to please, isn't she?" I turned on the faucet, rinsed the sour taste from my mouth, and stayed in there a while longer. Right after that, Meredith brought up the camping trip that weekend. "Will Sonia be going too?" "Yeah." "What a sweet young lady she is. Not only is she polite, but she's sensible too!" Meredith let out a sigh before continuing, "If you'd married her back then, I'd have a grandchild running around by now!" The living room went quiet for a couple of seconds. I waited for Nathan to say something, but he just laughed it off. "Mom, that was so many years ago! Besides, Liz is right inside. Don't say things like that when she's around, alright? "She might not be able to understand Westmerean, but she'll be able to figure out the gist of things from your tone and expression." Then, they both laughed. I braced myself against the sink and slowly lifted my head. The woman in the mirror had a deathly pale face and red-rimmed eyes. So Nathan knew those words were hurtful. He just didn't care. … After the meal, Meredith took out a gold bracelet. I thought it was for me, but she placed it in Nathan's hand instead. "This is for my future granddaughter-in-law. You can give it to Elizabeth when she finally gets pregnant." Nathan casually stuffed the jewelry box into his pocket. "She can't even take care of herself now. Kids can wait." I looked down at my lower abdomen. There was already a tiny baby inside, but his father didn't know about him yet, and his grandmother was always complaining about his mother. He wasn't even born yet, and it was already decided that he couldn't speak with a Briaric accent, couldn't be close to my hometown, Briarwood, and couldn't be like me. … On the way back, Nathan took a call from Sonia. He had it on speaker, so I heard it when Sonia asked, "Have you got the wings sorted yet? Everyone's really looking forward to it." Nathan glanced at me and immediately switched the call off speaker. "What wings?" I deliberately asked. "Those ones the clients wanted." "Sonia's your client too?" His expression stiffened for a second, then he quickly frowned. "She helps the company with procurement. What's the problem?" "I was just asking." "Why are you so paranoid lately?" When the light turned red, Nathan stopped the car and tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Elizabeth, I'm tired enough from work every day. I don't want to come home and deal with an interrogation." So I kept quiet. After we got home, I marinated two large boxes of wings for him as usual. Barbecue sauce, garlic, paprika, and honey—all according to the flavors he liked. Nathan had a taste of the marinade and wrapped his arms around me in satisfaction. "I knew you were the best. I'll try to come back early this weekend to be with you." I looked at him and said, "There's no rush." He beamed at me. "You're so understanding." … On Friday morning, Nathan left with the wings. I stood on the balcony and watched his car leave the neighborhood. Ten minutes later, I pulled out my phone and booked a one-way ticket back to Briarwood. The departure date was next Monday. Chapter 3 Elizabeth's POV After Nathan left, I began packing. Eight years ago, when I married Nathan and left home for Westmere, I brought three suitcases with me. Eight years later, despite living in a 2,000-square-foot house, I still didn't own enough to fill those three suitcases. I folded my clothes neatly. At the very bottom of the wardrobe lay my wedding album with Nathan. In the photos, he lifted my veil and whispered something in my ear. He had said, "From now on, this is your home." Back then, I had truly believed him. I quit my job back home, left my parents, and followed him to a city where I couldn't even understand what others were saying. When his friends gathered and spoke in Westmerean, I could only smile because I didn't understand a word they said. When his parents complained that my taste was too bland, I learned to cook local dishes. Even when Mom fell ill, all I did was ask for three days off work because Nathan said the round-trip tickets were expensive and that seeing her on a video call would be just the same as visiting her in person. I left the album where it was. That afternoon, Sonia posted a couple of photos on her social media. The first photo was of tents on a grassy field. The second showed Nathan standing at the grill, his head lowered as he tied an apron around her. The third was the two of them holding up the wings I had marinated, posing together. The caption read, "Same taste, same friends." In the comments, someone asked who prepared the wings, to which Sonia replied, "Our secret chef." There was no mention of me. The food I made was welcomed by his friends, but I, as a person, didn't deserve to be there. Minutes later, Nathan sent me a message with a photo of an empty takeout box attached. "The takeout I had for lunch tasted horrible! I miss your food, Liz!" I took a screenshot of Sonia's social media post, but quickly deleted it again. I didn't need any evidence anymore. … That evening, Mom video-called me. It was raining on her end, and the eaves dripped steadily. "Lizzie, why do you look so pale?" I moved the camera a little farther away from myself. "I've been on a diet lately." "Don't go on any ridiculous diets, Lizzie." A long stretch of silence followed as she hesitated. Then she asked gingerly, "Will you be coming home for Christmas this year?" In the eight years since I'd moved to Westmere, I had only gone back for Christmas twice. Every time, Nathan would say he had to work, couldn't get tickets, or that his parents would be upset if I didn't show up for Christmas celebrations. Not wanting Mom to worry about us, I always made excuses and covered for Nathan. But this time, I said, "Yes." Mom froze. "Really?" "Yes, really. And I might not be leaving again after that." She stared at the screen for a long time, as if afraid to ask why. In the end, she only said, "It's good that you're coming home." After ending the video call, I went to the hospital. The doctor looked at the examination results and asked me again, "Are you sure you want to terminate the pregnancy?" I nodded. "I'm sure." "Does your family know?" "No." The doctor frowned. "You'd better discuss it with the father." I touched my still-flat abdomen. If I gave birth to this child, he would sit at the dinner table unable to understand his grandparents. He would be corrected for his accent. And he would watch his father spend a lot of time having fun with his friends while leaving his mother at home. Perhaps one day, he, too, would think that his mother was the one who didn't fit in and the one who was too sensitive. I didn't want to take that gamble. "No, there's nothing to be discussed," I said resolutely, signing my name on the papers. The procedure was scheduled for Sunday morning. Before I left the hospital, the nurse handed me a list of precautions and reminded me that I needed someone to pick me up after the procedure. I thought about it for a long time before finally sending a message to my neighbor, Kendra Hopkins. She was quick to reply. "I'll be there with you." It was ironic that a neighbor I had only known for half a year knew that I shouldn't be alone at a time like this, yet my husband was miles away, eating the food I made and celebrating finally not having me there. When I came out of the hospital, Nathan called. Laughter filled the background. He covered the receiver and asked, "Liz, are you asleep yet?" "No." "I might not make it back tonight. The rain's too heavy. It'd be dangerous to drive." "Okay." "You're not mad, are you?" I looked down at the abortion paperwork in my hand. "No." He let out a breath of relief. "I always knew that you were understanding." Just before the call ended, I heard Sonia call out to him, "Nate, come quick! We're taking a picture! You're the only one who's not in it!" This time, I made no excuses for him again. Chapter 4 Elizabeth's POV On Sunday morning, as I changed into the hospital gown, Nathan sent me a message. "Liz, the client added something to the itinerary at the last minute, so I won't be home tonight either. There's some lasagna in the freezer. Remember to heat it up, okay?" A 100-dollar transfer followed, with a remark that read, "Don't skip dinner, Liz!" I declined it and simply replied, "Okay." Then, the nurse called my name. I turned off my phone and walked into the procedure room. As I lay down on the procedure table, I thought of the day I found out I was pregnant. I had bought a pair of yellow baby socks at a maternity store, planning to put them in a gift box along with the test results. I was going to surprise Nathan and tell him in person when he came back from his business trip. But it turned out that his so-called business trip involved taking the wings I had marinated and going camping with 11 of his friends. A cold stream of medication was injected into my vein. Before my consciousness faded, I placed my hand on my lower abdomen. "I'm sorry, baby. Mommy has failed you. Mommy can't give you a proper home." … When I woke up, it was raining outside, and my lower abdomen throbbed with waves of pain. Kendra helped me sit up to have a sip of water and couldn't help asking, "Is your husband still not done with work?" I shook my head. "He's out of town with a client." Even as the words left my mouth, I found it ridiculous. I had over a dozen unread messages on my phone. In the group chat I was in, where almost no one ever spoke, someone suddenly sent a weather warning. "It's going to rain in the mountains—everyone hurry and pack up!" The message had been sent to the wrong chat. In this group chat, everyone always sent well-wishes and greetings during the holidays. But the moment I sent anything, the chat would instantly fall silent. The real jokes and gatherings all happened in another group chat without me. I opened the settings and left the group chat. Five minutes later, Nathan called me. "Why did you leave the group chat?" In the background, I could vaguely hear laughter and chatter. Sonia then called out to him in Westmerean, telling him to go over and join them for a picture. Nathan hurriedly covered the receiver and went somewhere quiet. "Who's that with you?" I asked. Without even a pause, he lied and answered, "The clients. They're discussing work. Anyway, don't change the topic." I leaned against the hospital bed and asked softly, "You're with your clients, aren't you? How did you know I left the group chat?" He snapped back impatiently, "Elizabeth, everyone's going to think you have a problem with them if you just pull something like this out of nowhere." "Do they even care?" Nathan paused for a couple of seconds at my question. "What's been up with you lately? I've just been away for two days. Is it really worth getting so angry over it?" So it turned out he thought I was just throwing a tantrum because he was away. He never once considered that I already knew what he was actually doing. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" I asked. Nathan, as if finally hearing the familiar opening for reconciliation, softened his tone. "I'll come back and make it up to you, alright? I'll bring you a gift and take you to that restaurant you wanted to try. Just rejoin the group chat first. I don't want them making a joke out of us." I said nothing. A man's laughter came from the other end of the line. "Nate, is Elizabeth checking up on you? Has she found out you're out having fun and gotten jealous?" Nathan didn't hang up right away. Instead, I clearly heard him answer in Westmerean with a laugh, "She hasn't found out. She's just been having an upset stomach these past couple of days, and she's throwing a little tantrum at home again." The whole group of them laughed along. So to Nathan, all the grievances I'd had for the past eight years needed neither an explanation nor an apology. He thought that a gift, a meal, and a few sweet words were all it would take for me to continue waiting for him. When he returned to the call, his voice was gentle once more. "Liz, be good and stop making a fuss. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. You can punish me however you want then, alright?" "Okay." This was the last time I would go along with him. Nathan let out a breath of relief. "That's my good girl." After completing the discharge procedures, I went home with Kendra. My three suitcases were already packed. These were the same suitcases I'd brought along with me when I got married and moved to Westmere eight years ago. Back then, Nathan had complained about how heavy they were and insisted on pulling them the whole way for me, saying this would be my home from then on. Now, I couldn't even fill up the three suitcases. It turned out that after living in this home for eight years, I still had so few things that were truly mine. I placed the signed divorce agreement on the dining table and the abortion papers under it. Beside them sat the pair of yellow baby socks I never got to give him. Just before I left, Nathan sent me another voice message. "I'm done discussing things with the client. I'll be back tomorrow. Think about what gift you want and let me know when I get back. Don't go saying that I didn't make it up to you!" I didn't reply. … On Monday morning, I boarded the plane to Briarwood. When my flight landed, my parents were already waiting at the arrivals gate. Mom hugged me and called my childhood nickname over and over in Briaric. "Lizzie, it's so good that you're back home." This time, I needed no one to translate for me. I buried myself in her arms and finally cried out loud. "Mom, I'm not leaving anymore," I sobbed. … Third-Person POV At the same time, over in Westmere, Nathan pushed open the front door. "Liz, I'm back." Silence greeted him. When he saw the empty shoe rack, the smile on his face slowly stiffened. Elizabeth's clothes were gone from the closet, and only his toothbrush remained in the bathroom. On the dining table lay a divorce agreement with the abortion paperwork under it. The date on the paperwork was yesterday's. Nathan's fingers trembled violently as he stared at the paperwork.