I was pregnant and burning the midnight oil at the office, and it was a total downpour outside. My penny-pinching husband, Jason, wouldn't drive out because of the gas cost.

Over the phone, he sounded annoyed.

"Really? Not hitting up your rich buddy this time?"

"What about the night bus? Why should I waste gas going back and forth?"

Yet he didn't hesitate to go pick up his boss, Emma Reed, from her night out at the bar, and even brought her homemade hangover soup.

I used to bite my tongue about Jason's tough past and his all-out grind at work. No matter how hard it got, I kept my grip to myself.

But this time, I dropped a bombshell, "Let's get a divorce. You can pick up whoever you want from now on."

"And for your information, the car was a gift from my parents before we married, so you can forget about it." I cut the call without another word.

When the office doors locked, I leaned against the wall in the biting wind, my belly in knots, feeling every bit as stormy inside as it was outside.

Again and again, Jason's lack of care had shown his true colors.

Now, I was throwing his love away like yesterday's trash.

——

As I was about to hobble to the security booth to dodge the rain, headlights caught me from behind.

"Olivia, what are you doing out here getting soaked?"

My childhood friend, Lucas Cole, jumped out and rushed to my side, ushering me into the warmth of his car.

He initially wanted to lift me up but decided against it, opting instead to shield me with his umbrella while he guided me gently.

"You mentioned working late on your feed half an hour ago, and it's been raining cats and dogs for over an hour. I got worried and had to check on you."

"What's going on with Jason, leaving you out here in the rain, and you pregnant? Everything okay?"

"I..."

Between skipping dinner and the cold seeping into my bones, I barely caught Lucas' words before I blacked out.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a hospital bed.

There was Jason, holding my hand, an expression of concern I hadn't seen in ages plastered across his face.

"Sorry, Olivia. If only you'd said you were feeling off, I never would've let you take the bus..."

"Talking about a divorce in the heat of the moment? You know you didn't mean it. Looks like the baby was just putting up a fight, but thankfully, the doctor says all is well."

I yanked my hand back, "Oh, Emma hasn't sobered up yet, huh? Why aren't you fussing over her?"

Jason's forehead creased. "She drank too much to drive; what if something happened?"

Just work buddies, yet Jason was at her beck and call.

I felt colder than ever. "What about me? Three months pregnant and this is your first hospital visit."

Jason looked embarrassed. "Well, these check-ups are during office hours. If I come, I have to cancel meetings. My boss wouldn't be too happy..."

"You always have Lucas take you. Everyone's starting to talk, saying I'm wearing green!"

Jason, cornered, tried to shift the blame.

"If Lucas hadn't shown up, you'd be in an ambulance by now."

"Jason, when have you actually cared about me?"

Jason suddenly became defensive, raising his voice.

"Olivia Wright, you've always thought less of me because I wasn't born with a silver spoon. And you never let me forget it by bringing up Lucas."

"How can you say I don't care? I've been busting my butt for you and our baby!"

Passersby in the hospital corridor stopped and stared, whispering to each other.

Every time we argued, Jason played the victim, leaving me to face the unwarranted scrutiny.

"Jason, don't try to play the saint here. You haven't spent a cent on me since we tied the knot."

My laugh was cold and humorless.

"The car's mine, and I've been paying off the house. Did you even prep your lies?"

"I thought you were just tight because you grew up poor. Now I see it's just your nature—you're stingy and selfish to the core."

Jason was caught off-guard. I didn't coddle him as usual, and he stumbled over his words.

Usually, I'd spare his feelings and not say it outright, letting him forget his limits.

"Olivia, is that really what you think of me? No wonder you prefer that rich guy."

Jason pretended to be crushed, his head hanging low as he murmured to himself.

He quietly served some chicken soup from a thermos.

"No matter what, I'm still your husband. Look, I barely slept last night, just to make this soup for you. Please, just try some."

Jason tenderly brushed my hair aside and offered me a spoonful with a loving look.

Instinctively, I opened my mouth, but the pungent smell instantly made me nauseous.

"Jason, I can't stand cilantro."

He was taken aback. "But you always get it ready."

"That's because you said you liked it. I've never actually eaten it."

Calmly, I continued, "And that soup? You picked it up from the café downstairs. Next time you lie, remember to pluck out the mushrooms with the café's logo."

I pushed the soup bowl back, and it accidentally splashed onto his shirt.

At that moment, a woman's voice piped up.

"Geez, I heard from you but didn't believe it—your wife really is high-maintenance, isn't she?"

I looked up to see Emma, Jason's boss, whom he always tries to impress.

Catching sight of her, Jason quickly dabbed at his shirt with a napkin and stood to offer her his seat.

"Ms. Reed, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Emma barely acknowledged him, her chin raised as she flashed me a condescending smile. "Heard Jason's been skipping work to play nursemaid. I just had to see the woman who's so worth his time."

I was a mess from the night's ordeal—pale, disheveled.

In stark contrast, Emma, perfectly made-up, eyed me up and down before scoffing, "Really? He's into this?"

Annoyed, I grabbed the bowl of soup and dumped it into the trash can by her feet, splattering her with the greasy broth. Her scream was piercing.

Jason, mortified, blurted out, "She's pregnant, Ms. Reed. She doesn't hold a candle to you. Please, overlook this..."

Watching the drama unfold, I chimed in, amused, "Good timing. Jason and I are heading for splitsville. Ms. Reed, if you're so inclined, you might find him in the trash—where he belongs."

Jason glared at me, then turned back to Emma with a desperate attempt to smooth things over. "She's kidding, Ms. Reed. Please don't take it to heart..."

"The divorce papers are on your desk," I added calmly.

"Olivia!" Jason exclaimed, his eyes reddening with anger.

Emma chuckled dismissively, "Only the incompetent make divorce their mantra."

She sashayed out, carelessly tossing back, "Jason, be at the meeting in thirty minutes. Don't be late, or else."

Jason hastily grabbed his coat, gave my hand a squeeze, and whispered softly, "Hang tight, I'll swing by later."

I had to stay in the hospital for a few days for monitoring.

During that time, Jason was a no-show—no visits, not even a call.

I wasn't surprised; I didn't expect anything different. I didn't try to reach out to him either.

But what did surprise me was his "urgent business"—turns out, it was all play.

On my discharge day, I stumbled upon Emma's post about their team-building trip to Miami. There they were in the photos, Jason and Emma, hands linked, all smiles on the beach.

My comment was frosty: [Enjoying your honeymoon? Maybe Jason can sign those divorce papers in between sunbathing sessions.]

After posting, my heart just sank. There I was, a pregnant wife in the hospital, and there he was, frolicking on the beach with his boss.

Jason called soon after.

I hit "decline" without a second thought and asked my doctor about ending the pregnancy.

Post-procedure, I finally returned Jason's barrage of missed calls.

"You got it all wrong, Olivia! It was just a company retreat—those photos were just for show! Emma's nothing but my boss."

His excuses fell on deaf ears.

My heart was a waveless lake as I said, "Even if Emma were your mother, it wouldn't make a difference to me now."

"I called to tell you, I've terminated the pregnancy. If you don't sign the papers, we'll settle this in court."

From a distance, Lucas watched, his expression one of concern. When he saw me hang up, he hurried over, a Cartoon character lunchbox in hand.

"Got you some soup and Mashed Sweet Potatoes. Eat up; you need to regain your strength after the surgery."

"Lucas, why the gloves in this heat?" I queried, reaching to pull them off. Revealed were his fingers, adorned with Band-Aids.

He blushed, a sheepish grin on his face. "Turns out I'm better with keyboards than kitchen knives. Promise the beef's thoroughly cooked, though!"

I was taken aback, fingers trembling slightly as I accepted the lunchbox.

It was a long-forgotten feeling, being cared for like this.

Lucas, with all his wealth, was an unlikely friend for someone from my humble beginnings.

We became desk mates in high school after I topped the county exams—a stark contrast to his paid entry.

We pushed each other through those years, both performing well on our finals.

But I know all of that wouldn't last given the gap caused by our utterly different backgrounds, so I turned down his attempted confession.

After high school, our paths diverged—I headed to an Ivy League school, where I met Jason.

He went abroad, and we didn't cross paths again until my wedding to Jason.

Reflecting on it all, I couldn't help but smirk at the irony.

"Lucas, know any sharp divorce lawyers?"

His face lit up briefly before he played it cool. "Yeah, got a friend in need?"

"No, it's for me. Looks like Jason isn't going to make this easy, so I need to be prepared."

A smile flickered across Lucas' face, though he tried to hide it. "I know just the one—a top-notch attorney. I'll send you her info."

"Thanks, Lucas."

That evening, back at my apartment, I sat down to gather the paperwork for the divorce.

Suddenly, Jason's arms enveloped me from behind, his breath hot against my neck.

"Olivia, yell at me, hit me, but why take it out on our baby?"

He kissed me fiercely, holding on despite my attempts to push him away.

Nauseated, I grabbed his hair and threw him to the ground.

Jason looked up from the floor, his eyes wide and hurt.

"You used to calm down with just a kiss. You've never lashed out like this before."

"I've been wrapped up at work, I know I've neglected you. It's my fault. What if I give you my whole paycheck? Just don't stay mad."

As he finished, my phone chimed—a transfer notification.

Before, when I'd question his priorities, he'd send money as a tearful demonstration of his loyalty.

Each time, I'd feel like the sensitive one, regretting my suspicions, so I never accepted the money.

Turns out, it was just his constant manipulation.

This time, I tapped "accept" without hesitation.

Jason stared at his phone screen, unable to believe his eyes. I could almost hear his heart-shattering.

"Olivia... you... I..."

Shaking my head, I scoffed inside. "Making a miser crack is as easy as pie."

"Why don't you marry your money, Jason? Leave me out of it."

I pushed him out of the room and locked the door behind me.

"I've lined up a divorce lawyer. It's your move now."

Jason was seething outside, "Do you have any idea how popular I am? There's a line of women waiting for me to be single. You're going to drag this to court over a triviality?"

"If it weren't for my duty to you, I'd have married Emma by now—I could have cut ten years off my struggle!"

With that, he slammed the door and stormed off.

Laughable, really. After years in the game, Jason still couldn't tell whether Emma loved him or just found him cheaply useful.

But this gave me an idea. Perhaps Emma could be the key to unlocking my divorce.

For the next few days, Jason kept up his act, darting out early and returning late, dodging any interaction with me.

He's always been calculative, only ever making concessions when his back's against the wall.

Tonight, Emma was dragging him along to a business mixer aimed at drumming up support for a new project.

At the karaoke lounge, Jason flitted from one big shot to another, glass in hand, plastering on a grin. He leaned towards Emma and muttered,

"Ms. Reed, wasn't some high-roller supposed to show up? It's been an hour—I'm nearly spent from all this booze..."

"Ease up on the drinks. We're here for him," she advised.

Just then, a familiar voice called out from the entrance, "Apologies for the wait."

Jason turned stone-cold, a look of utter shock crossing his face. "Lucas Cole?!"

Emma promptly rose to greet him, all smiles, "Mr. Cole, I've heard about your swift investments since returning stateside—truly visionary."

Lucas glanced at her, an intrigued smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, so you're the renowned Ms. Reed from Aspire Enterprises, nearly public. Pity, really."

Emma's smile wavered. "I'm not sure I follow, Mr. Cole."

"Seems like you're out of the loop then. Surprising you've got the gall to socialize," Lucas quipped, relaxing into the soft sofa, wine glass in hand.

Suddenly, another suited man burst out,

"Everyone, check your emails now! It's big news!"

Curious, Jason and Emma whipped out their phones and were immediately greeted by an inbox notification.

Opening the email sent shivers down Jason's spine while Emma seemed to collapse in her chair.