Dia Mencuri Sepatu Hamilku yang Aku Tinggalkan Baginya

I was 5 months pregnant, and my ankles had swollen up like balloons. Even shoes two sizes larger than my usual size no longer fit. My husband, Derek Lawson, glanced at the swollen, shiny tops of my feet. He looked a little uncomfortable. A little later, he tapped a few times on his phone and said, "I ordered you something that fits. It'll be here tomorrow." Sure enough, two shoeboxes stood in the entryway at noon the next day. One box contained the maternity shoes I'd spent 2 weeks begging him for. I'd spent hours researching that brand's grip and cushioning. I felt a flicker of warmth. I'd just opened the packaging to try them on when someone jammed a key into the front door and wrenched it open. Our neighbor, Audrey Nolan, walked in wearing stilettos. The moment she spotted the maternity shoe in my hand, her face darkened. She rushed over, snatched the shoe from me, and tossed it to the floor in disgust. "Derek, didn't you say you picked out these limited-edition cushioned shoes especially for me to wear to work? Why does she have them?" She turned to glare at me and sneered. "Colleen, are you stealing other people's packages now? There's nothing you won't stoop to." Bending over had left me gasping for breath. I braced myself against the wall and explained, "Derek promised to buy me shoes yesterday. I thought..." "You thought?" Derek came in behind her, his brow furrowed and his voice icy. "Colleen, could you stop being so vain? Audrey spends all day on her feet giving presentations at the office. She needs good shoes to support her ankles. You're pregnant and home all day. Who are you trying to impress with expensive brand-name shoes?" He looked me up and down, his gaze settling on my swollen, ungainly feet with undisguised distaste. "Besides, could you even squeeze those feet into such dainty shoes? Don't stretch them out of shape. They aren't yours." He bent down, carefully picked up the limited-edition shoes, wiped them with his sleeve, and handed them to Audrey. Then he kicked the other pair toward my feet: cheap plastic slippers that cost a few dollars, wrapped in a flimsy plastic bag and reeking of plastic. "Wear these. They're cheap and roomy. They're just right for your size these days."