My name is Wimara.
I met Anton back in 2009. At the time, he was just an ordinary employee — no savings, buried in debts.
People around me said: “Why are you with him? You can do better.”
But I had a heart, not a calculator.
I stood by Anton from nothing. I followed him through job after job, his salary barely enough some months. Then finally, he climbed his way up and became a General Manager.
I thought that would be the happy ending to our struggle.
But it was actually the beginning of my pain.
At the peak of his career, Anton cheated. With a widow who already had two kids. And then they even went on to have three more children together.
I was left speechless as I watched him buy her a car, a house, pay for her to finish her degree and become a lecturer.
And me?
I still relied on my parents’ help to put food on the table, to keep a roof over my head.
I swallowed my pain quietly.
Each night I cried into my prayers:
“Dear God, You see everything. Let Your hand be the one to correct them, in this world and the next.”
You see, I didn’t choose Anton thoughtlessly.
When I was still in college and he was already working, I told him plainly:
“If we get married, I want a house. I want a car. I want my life secured.”
He agreed.
I even told him to learn how to drive, and he did.
Our first car came when I was pregnant with our first child.
Even though his income was always tight because of the mortgage, I still took care of myself. From head to toe I made sure I stayed beautiful — because I didn’t want to give him any excuse to stray.
But men — once they have a little more money, they feel they can do whatever they want.
And in 2023, I finally learned the bitter truth.
That year was the darkest year of my life.
At the start of the year, I fell ill.
In the middle of the year, I got pregnant — only to lose the baby to a miscarriage.
And at the end of the year, I found out he almost booked an escort online.
He said he didn’t go through with it.
He said he was just “curious.”
But to me, that betrayal already cut deep.
Why did he become like that? He blamed his organization, his colleagues, his frequent work trips — especially to Bali.
Do I believe him? Of course not.
Since then, I stopped arguing.
I stopped demanding anything.
I just stayed quiet and whispered in my heart:
“God sees everything. Let His hand be the one to deal with it. Not mine.”
Anton regrets everything now. He apologizes over and over.
He says he was a fool.
But my wounds haven’t healed.
There are nights I cry silently, wishing I could go back and choose a different path.
There are days I look in the mirror, give myself a faint smile, and whisper:
“You are strong. You’ve come this far.”
I don’t know when — or if — this will all be over.
For now, all I can do is hold on tight to my prayers, and wait for God to deliver what justice is due.
Photo by Luemen Rutkowski on Unsplash
