The Bittersweet Symphony of Love

I was lying on the operating table for a miscarriage when my parents were in a car accident.

I had just lost the second child I was carrying for Zack Johnson.

At my parents' funeral, I called Zack again and again.

Until his childhood friend Natalie Parker answered, her voice impatient:

"Zack's washing strawberries for me. What do you want?"

Cradling the urn containing my parents' ashes, my expression blank, I replied:

"Nothing. Just tell Zack when you're done eating the strawberries that I agree to the divorce."

I was alone when I took my parents' bodies to be cremated.

Along with the second child I had deliberately terminated, the one I had conceived with my husband, Zack Johnson.

All my living relatives in this world were sealed into that small cremation chamber.

Reduced to a handful of ashes.

But it didn't matter anymore.

I was dying too.

My parents were kind people in life, and many relatives and friends attended their funeral.

The only person missing was the one who should have been there - my husband, Zack Johnson.

My parents' closest friend, my uncle, mentioned Zack's name and shook his head in anger.

He looked at me with eyes full of sympathy.

They all said similar things:

"The Wilsons were kind their whole lives, and in the end, they helped raise that ungrateful bastard Zack Johnson!"

...

Dressed in black funeral attire, I carried the urn as I walked to the burial site.

The sky was overcast.

My lower abdomen still ached dully. I gently placed my hand over it.

It had once nurtured two unborn children.

But alas...

Never mind. Their father didn't love me, so he naturally wouldn't have loved them either.

The wrist peeking out from my sleeve was dry, yellow, and emaciated.

I remembered the doctor saying I only had three more months to live.

In these three months, I wanted to take my parents' and baby's ashes to see the world one last time.

Without Zack Johnson.

I took out my phone and dialed the number I knew by heart.

Again and again, with no answer.

Until the 13th try, it finally connected.

But it was Zack's childhood friend Natalie Parker who spoke, her tone coquettish and demanding:

"Girl, it's 4 AM in Los Angeles right now!"

In the past, I would have hysterically called her a bitch.

But now my heart felt nothing. I just calmly said:

"I need to speak with Zack about something."

Natalie snorted coldly, very impatient:

"Zack's washing strawberries for me. What do you want?"

Before I could answer, she sneered again,

"You're keeping too close an eye on him, aren't you? We just finished a big meeting, and Zack and I are both exhausted. Whatever you have to say, just tell me."

I was silent for a moment, looking at the urn in my arms, my expression blank as I replied:

"It's nothing. Just tell Zack when you're done eating the strawberries that I agree to the divorce."

I hung up without waiting for her response.

I had loved Zack Johnson for ten years and been bound to him in marriage for five.

But I st...