Chapter 1

On the day I went into labor, my husband, David Shaw, left me to celebrate her first love, Jessica Rivers's birthday.

In the middle of the night, my water broke, and I repeatedly called David.

It wasn't until dawn that he finally answered the phone.

"Jessica is still sleeping. Can you stop being unreasonable?" he snapped.

I gently touched my swollen belly and calmly replied, "Come sign the divorce papers, and I won't be unreasonable anymore."

*****

During labor, I, Sandra Lynch, suddenly started bleeding heavily. The hospital said it was a life-or-death situation and needed a family member to sign off.

The nurse tried calling David again and again, but he kept hanging up on her.

Finally, on the last call, he answered. I felt a spark of hope and hurried to say, "David, where are you? Something's wrong with my blood.

"The hospital needs you to sign the consent for emergency surgery. Please, I'm really scared."

I was drenched in sweat from the pain, barely able to speak, my voice weak and trembling.

But David's tone was as impatient as ever. He barked at me, "Sandra, it's just having a baby. Why are you making such a fuss? Do you really need me to come sign?

"You're already at the hospital, so what's your problem now? If you're hurting, tell the doctor. What do you expect me to do, heal you or something?

"Don't you know it's Jessica's birthday? She's still asleep. Are you trying to wake her up? I'm begging you, stop making a fuss, okay?"

Right before he hung up, I caught Jessica's voice in the background. "David, why aren't you in bed?"

Her seductive laugh rang out over the speaker, making the whole clinic feel even colder and more uncomfortable.

"Or get your parents to sign. Stop pestering me," David said heartlessly, then hung up. I felt cold all over, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face.

He had forgotten that I cut off my parents just to marry him. They didn't even recognize me as their daughter anymore. Now no one would sign for me anymore.

As the pain in my lower belly kept coming in waves, my heart grew colder. In his heart, not even I and our unborn child together could compare to Jessica.

The pain was so sharp it made me cry out. I said, "Doctor, give me the form. I'll sign it myself."

The anesthesia kicked in, and I quickly lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I was lying in the hospital. I had lost the baby, and no one was there for me.

The doctor told me it was a girl, the little princess I'd always wished for. The nursery at home was all pink, just for her. But now, gently touching my flat abdomen, my tears began to fall.

I unlocked my phone and saw a warning message from David: [Don't bother calling me unless it's urgent. You hear me?]

[Our baby's gone.] I typed with shaking hands. I sent the message on WhatsApp. It sat there with a single gray checkmark, sent, but never delivered. David had blocked me.

As I was about to turn off the screen, my phone suddenly rang.

I thought it was David, but it turned out to be a post from Jessica on her Instagram, a picture of David in an apron, making dinner.

Jessica wrote: [He's been with me these past few days. In a relationship, the one who isn't loved is the real third wheel.]

Her words overflowed with glee and pride, stabbing into my heart like a knife and shredding it to pieces.

I had just survived a life-or-death ordeal alone in the hospital, only to be blocked by him and see his first love showing off their happiness right.

I couldn't let myself think about it any longer. I grabbed my stuff and walked out of the hospital, heading home alone.

When I got home, David wasn't there. He didn't show up until late on the third night.

As soon as he walked in, he woke me up from my sleep. Seeing how pale I was, he pressed his lips together and said, "I'm hungry. Get up and make me some food."

I didn't say a word. I just pulled the blanket up and turned away from him, trying to go back to sleep.

David tossed his briefcase down, clearly annoyed. "Why are you throwing a tantrum again? Marrying you was the worst luck ever," he snapped, then slammed the door behind him as he left.

A sour ache rose in my chest, but I forced myself to ignore him and slept until I woke up naturally.

In the past, I'd get up at seven every morning, iron David's clothes, and cook breakfast for him.

Even when I was pregnant, I still did all that. But the man who never did a thing around the house was actually in the kitchen cooking for Jessica that day.

I'd stop catering to him anymore.