In the morning, at the cemetery.
The grieving sobs had yet to stop as Mila continued to weep over the loss of her son, who had just been buried.
The one-month-old baby had been diagnosed with heart failure, leaving Mila and Anton in profound grief.
Yet, in the midst of that solemn atmosphere, Anton uttered a sentence that shocked everyone present.
“Mila, I’m divorcing you. Starting today, you’re no longer my wife!” Anton’s voice was sharp and piercing, throwing everyone who heard it into an uproar.
Beneath the overcast sky, those words echoed in Mila’s ears.
She had never imagined hearing them from the man who was her husband on the darkest day of her life.
“Honey, what do you mean? Why are you divorcing me in front of our child’s grave?” Mila asked through her increasingly broken sobs.
Her body trembled violently.
Anton remained unmoved.
His face was cold and filled with anger.
“You deserve to be divorced! You couldn’t even take care of one baby! Our child died because of your negligence!”
Anton pointed at Mila’s face without the slightest mercy.
“Honey... we just lost our son,” Mila said, trying to control her labored breathing.
“This was the Almighty’s will. It wasn’t my fault. Where is your conscience?”
Mila’s words fell on deaf ears.
Mrs. Ratih, standing beside Anton, instead chimed in with a sarcastic tone.
“That’s enough, Anton. Let’s go home. I’ll find you a more suitable woman later, one who can give you healthy children, not someone as weak as her,” she urged, shooting Mila a vicious glance.
“Oh, right, Mila,” Mrs. Ratih continued.
“Don’t ever set foot in Anton’s house again. Your belongings will be left outside.”
Mrs. Ratih and Anton simply walked away, leaving Mila clutching the red soil of her son’s grave.
“My child, rest peacefully there... I promise I’ll be strong,” Mila whispered softly.
“Stand up. Don’t waste your tears on a man like that,” a middle-aged man’s deep voice interrupted.
Mila turned around in shock.
Behind her stood a middle-aged man, Mr. Sony, with his wife, Mrs. Sinta, and a young man with a cold expression.
“Who are you?” Mila asked warily.
Mrs. Sinta stepped forward and smiled warmly.
“I’m sorry if we’re being presumptuous. I saw everything. If you have nowhere to go, come with us. We need help caring for our son’s baby, who just lost his mother during childbirth.”
Mila fell silent, then slowly shook her head.
“Thank you so much for your kindness, ma’am, sir. But I need some time to collect myself first. Excuse me.”
Mila chose to turn around and walk away from the cemetery grounds.
Several hours later...
Mila arrived at the rental house where she had once lived with Anton.
A pile of suitcases and plastic bags already lay on the ground in front of the gate.
Anton came out of the house with his arms folded across his chest.
“Good. At least you know your place. My lawyer will take care of the divorce papers immediately. Get out of my life now.”
Mila stared straight at Anton.
Her tears had dried, replaced by a cold resolve.
“All right, Anton. I’m leaving today. But remember my words: one day, you and your family will beg for forgiveness for what you’ve done today.”
Anton laughed mockingly.
“Regret it? Don’t dream! You’re just a gloomy woman with no future.”
Mila picked up her bags without saying another word and walked away through the drizzle that had begun to fall.
As she walked along the sidewalk of the main road, her body weak, a luxury car stopped beside her.
Mrs. Sinta got out carrying an umbrella, accompanied by Mr. Sony.
“Mila, we know you don’t have anywhere to live right now,” Mrs. Sinta said gently.
“Our earlier offer wasn’t just out of pity. We truly need you to help care for Baby Samudra, our grandson. Come with us.”
Mr. Sony nodded.
“We know what it feels like to lose someone, too. Our son, Marcel, just lost his wife. We can support each other.”
Mila looked at the elderly couple with tears in her eyes.
The kindness these strangers showed her was the exact opposite of her ex-husband’s cruelty.
“Thank you... Thank you so much, ma’am, sir,” Mila whispered emotionally.
However, the car door flew open roughly.
Marcel stepped out from the driver’s seat, looking Mila up and down with a skeptical, sharp gaze.
“Are you sure you want to bring this woman into our home, Mom and Dad?” Marcel cut in, his firm baritone filling the air.
“Her own husband threw her out because he thought she couldn’t take care of a child. How can you trust her with Samudra?”