After Being Betrayed, I Fought Back

My husband and his mom pushed me down the stairs when I was pregnant with my third.

It fractured my tailbone, necessitating an emergency C-section without any pain relief, and I delivered a stillborn.

I barely scraped through a severe hemorrhage.

The night I left the hospital, I caught my husband all smiles, cozying up with a younger woman at our local grill spot.

They were all over each other, enough to make anyone sick.

I made my exit, yet he had the gall to sob and beg me not to leave.

That bastard, all I want right now is to tear him apart, piece by piece.

1

Once out, I had Will, my assistant, swing by our regular BBQ spot for some takeout.

My diet was micromanaged by my husband, Lucas Flynn, and his mom, Martha, throughout my pregnancy.

Now that I had lost the baby, I assumed nobody would bother about what I ate.

Honestly, after losing my child, I wasn't in the mood to eat.

I was more or less trying to use the act of eating to spark a little feel-good serotonin and endorphin release to lighten my heartache.

Peering out through the tinted car window, I felt empty, watching the owner warmly welcoming patrons, amidst the smoke and aroma of grilled meats.

Suddenly, a familiar figure inside caught my attention.

Clad in an expensive tailor-made suit, his hair meticulously styled, he exuded a smarmy, pseudo-aristocrat vibe, clearly enjoying his BBQ.

He stuck out like a sore thumb in that modest street-side diner.

Next to him was a woman, her face beaming with happiness.

They took turns feeding each other bites, sharing a skewer here and there.

He lovingly ruffled her hair, their world seemingly wrapped in a bubble of bliss.

"Mrs. Flynn... uh..." Will hesitated, clutching the bagged BBQ, unsure of what to say.

"Forget 'Mrs. Flynn', just call me Ms. Swift." I sighed deeply, "Did they notice you?"

"No, they didn't, Ms. Swift!" Will assured quickly.

"Whatever you saw today, consider it unseen. And keep it under wraps." My voice was devoid of any emotion.

Will nodded, got the message, and zipped his lips.

Will had been my dad's most trusted ally, and following my dad's death, I'd kept him close.

Sitting in the car, I fought to steady my shaking hands, gripping my phone tightly. The screen displayed the resume of that girl, Melanie Quinn, glaring back at me.

She was my cousin, the daughter of my aunt, with a face unsettlingly similar to mine.

Lucas had gone behind my back six months ago to hire her as his assistant.

At the time, I found it odd I hadn't heard about my cousin looking for work before he did.

Now, thinking about it churned my stomach, and I nearly retched.

I felt like a complete fool.

Lucas always despised these little eateries, calling them filthy.

Every time I longed for a bite of the grilled beef there, he'd resist going with me, claiming it was beneath him.

Lucas Flynn, the big boss, a name too big and shiny for this kind of street food.

Yet here he was today, in this very place he loathed, dining joyfully with another woman.

And of all the places, it had to be my favorite joint!

On top of that, it had to be this day!

If it hadn't been for him and his mom shoving me down those stairs, I wouldn't have lost my baby and nearly died on the operating table.

Throughout my three-month hospital stay, Lucas claimed he was swamped with work, and too busy to visit even once.

The company was gearing up to go public, he was buried in work, yet he never missed sending those seemingly caring texts.

I'd been understanding, not making a big deal out of it, but now that felt like a colossal joke.

I powered off my phone and closed my eyes, feeling a headache tighten around my temples.

"Will, just keep the BBQ for yourself; I'm not hungry."

Everything Lucas had today, he owed it all to me.

Before we married, after my parents' tragic accident, I inherited everything they owned, and together we expanded the business.

Without me, he'd be just another faceless employee in my family's firm.

What right did he have to treat me this way?

Rage seethed within me, burning uncontrollably.

2

When I got home, Martha, my mother-in-law was chilling on the couch, legs crossed, glued to the TV.

Clearly, Lucas hadn't made it back yet.

Her face showed a hint of guilt when she saw me. Hurrying over, she said, "Back already? Oh, I've been under the weather myself, otherwise, I'd have been by your side at the hospital."

Her freshly done nails and the telltale signs of recent cosmetic tweaks were all the proof I needed that she wasn't being sincere.

She never showed her face during my hospital stay, claiming her own health was too frail.

Yet, she was the calmest person in the storm.

Heading to the kitchen, she returned with a bowl of some medicinal broth.

"You need to build your strength back up after the hospital. I made you this special tonic. Have it while it's hot," she insisted.

"Thanks for the effort," I muttered, not wanting to stick around, and took the broth toward my study.

She caught my arm, fishing for information, "The doctor mentioned you've lost some memories. Do you really not recall how you fell?"

"I don't remember. How did it happen?" I feigned ignorance with wide, innocent eyes, curious about her version of the story.

"It was that darn handrail on the stairs; it was loose. You grabbed it and down you went. But don't worry, I've had it fixed!" She spoke with such conviction, that you'd think it was the absolute truth.

As if I could forget such a thing! Not in this lifetime!

In the study, I dumped the broth in disgust.

Three months ago, I was heavily pregnant, seven months along.

Lucas had secretly confirmed through a doctor friend that our baby wasn't a boy.

Martha came up with some medical concoction she claimed an "expert" had sworn by to ensure a male child.

"Martha, that's nothing but superstition," I scoffed, "Pregnant women shouldn't mess with random meds."

She pretended to toss the recipe and agreed on the surface, yet she stealthily mixed it into my soups daily.

Each meal left a bitter taste in my mouth, which I blamed on pregnancy-related appetite issues.

The day everything came crashing down, I received an anonymous email with a video clip of Lucas and Melanie a bit too close for comfort.

I stormed home, only to find Martha secretly adding something to the soup she had prepared for me.

Our argument escalated quickly, and Lucas intervened, siding with her and slapping me across the face.

Soon after, I was pushed down the stairs, resulting in a broken tailbone and excruciating abdominal pain.

At the hospital, there was no time for anesthesia; I had a premature C-section.

The agony was indescribable as if my body was being torn apart.

The child I endured so much for was stillborn, and I almost died from the bleeding.

Just thinking about it sends a sharp pain through every nerve in my body.

"Summer, honey, we still haven't sorted out Ethan's money for this month. Could you handle that tomorrow?" She asked, her voice dripping with feigned concern.

"Ethan? Who's that?" I frowned, clutching my forehead, "Ugh, my head is killing me."

Ethan is Lucas's no-good younger brother, living off our dime like a parasite.

Lucas has always been too soft on him, cleaning up his messes and gambling debts to the tune of millions.

We've had our fair share of fights over his reckless spending.

Martha's face twisted into a cunning smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief once she thought I had amnesia.

My heart chilled a few more degrees.

"Well, if you can't remember, best not to dwell on it. Just rest up," she said, her tone lightening as she left the room.

I locked the study door behind her and started checking the financials on Lucas's computer, noting every transaction and deposit.

A shocking personal expenditure of $30 million caught my eye.

I barely had time to process it when the door clicked, unlocked with a key.

3

Lucas entered briskly. "Why's it so darks in here?"

I quickly closed all tabs, relieved I'd used incognito mode.

"I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up, had a crucial meeting today," he said, hugging me, his neck nuzzling against mine, his shirt carrying a faint, unfamiliar perfume.

It was a subtle scent, but my senses were sharp; I caught it immediately.

Lies seemed to flow from him as easily as breathing, without a hint of guilt.

Disgusted, I played along, "It's fine, doesn't matter who picks me up."

He stroked my back, his eyes pretending to be full of sorrow.

Inside, I was seething at his audacity to act so concerned.

"I'm going back to the office tomorrow," I declared.

A flicker of concern crossed his face. "Tomorrow? That soon? Maybe take a little longer to rest."

The recent events had wrung genuine tears from me, mingling with those I forced.

Holding back my emotions, I added, "I need to distract myself, you know... after losing our baby..."

My voice broke, and tears followed, Lucas quickly moved to comfort me, his panic evident.

Too trusting, I had been, especially after handing over the business reins to him post-pregnancy.

As my health waned, I entrusted him with full custody of the company and our finances.

He had everything under control, after all.

Clearly, men can be heartless.

They climb using their wives' efforts, then boast as if self-made, letting their true rotten nature eventually show.

Or perhaps, they were rotten from the start, just well-masked.

The next morning, I arrived at the office with Lucas, poised and graceful.

Melanie's smile was strained, her eyes betraying her frustration and resentment.

Clearly, she was too inexperienced to hide her true feelings.

Later that morning, I approached Lucas's office with some files on a new project, noticing Melanie was absent from her desk.

I was about to knock when I heard her sultry voice through the door, "Lucas, when are you ditching that old witch? I can wait, but this baby can't!"

My head spun with a thousand thoughts.

Throughout my hospital stay, Lucas hadn't shed a single tear for our lost baby, his nonchalance now explained. I even thought he was a man with stoicism like they say online.

It wasn't stoicism; he had moved on to someone else, someone new.

"That hag's forgotten everything, doesn't even suspect a thing. I need to find a way to take over her assets," I heard Lucas whispering sweetly, "Just a little longer, babe. Once I secure all the shares, I'll make sure our son has a perfect home."

"She's tougher than she looks, survived that nasty fall. Such a pity she didn't die," Melanie's voice oozed disdain. "Would've saved us a lot of trouble."

Their cold words echoed, each one piercing deeper into my heart.

I was too shaken to catch Lucas's response.

"Old witch"... "hag"...

So, this was how my beloved husband and my cousin spoke of me behind my back.

Melanie was only three years younger than me.

The files in my hands trembled violently, becoming crumpled and twisted.

It was undeniable... Lucas had tried to kill me intentionally...

He wanted me dead!

If Will hadn't come by that day, I might not have made it to the hospital in time.

I made my way back to my office, collapsing onto the sofa as soon as the door closed, my chest tight with pain, nearly breathless.

Although my heart had long since turned to stone, their words still had the power to enrage me.

Will's knock broke my train of thought. I inhaled deeply, trying to compose myself. "Come in."

"Ms. Swift, about that matter you asked me to look into. Six months ago, Mr. Flynn paid cash for a luxury flat on the east side of town."

Six months ago... That was right when I found out I was pregnant.

My phone vibrated with a new message, it was from Melanie.

"Summer! Celebrate my new house with me tonight~ You must come! Here's the address..."