Eliminating Ungrateful Husband

Tonight was my husband, Andreas McMillan’s big movie premiere, so I wanted to surprise him with my pregnancy news and a box of cookies I baked myself.

Andreas always said he loved everything I made — said it reminded him of home.

But just as I reached his waiting room, a strange sound stopped me. A woman’s breathy moans, followed by the rhythm of bodies colliding.

My hand froze on the doorknob. I leaned closer, peering through the small crack.

I saw my husband’s back slick with sweat as he moved against a woman sitting on the dressing table.

She was Belinda Logan, my best friend and his co-star. Her head tilted back, her manicured nails digging into his shoulders.

Their lips met hungrily, tongues tangled, as if the world outside that room didn’t exist.

I wanted to barge in, scream, throw everything I had at them.

But before I could move, Belinda’s sweet voice drifted through the door, “Andre, the doctor said you shouldn’t do it too hard… for the sake of our baby in my belly. Have you forgotten?”

Andreas slowed, chuckling softly. “Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot about that.”

Then, he brushed her stomach with his palm. “Baby, forgive your daddy, okay? I’ll be gentle.”

The cookie box in my hands crumpled into pieces.

I still remembered his gentle voice months ago, “It’s just acting. How could I have feelings for her?”

Andreas also explained that the screenwriter was an old friend, someone he owed, so he couldn’t reject the project.

I understood. In this industry, connections mattered. So, I agreed, and I trusted Belinda.

But trust broke easily.

Once, Andreas was the man who swore he loved me more than anything.

After my first miscarriage, he held me through the nights, blaming himself, whispering, “It’s okay, love. Children don’t matter. As long as I have you.”

But now he had a baby with another woman.

And Belinda…

Once, she was my best friend — the one who knew my fears, but now she was the woman who destroyed my world and smiled while doing it.

Even worse, I later learned that it was them who had orchestrated my many previous miscarriages.

They had even replaced all my vitamins with specially formulated birth-control pills, ensuring my body could no longer conceive easily.

It seemed, they truly forgot who helped them rise to the place where they now stood.

In fury, I called my father right away. “Is the offer from five years ago still valid?”

“Of course,” he answered without hesitation.

With that, I divorced that shameless husband, withdrew all my shares from Lenz Agency, and ended Belinda’s acting career with a single decision.

Let’s see who would be begging in the end!

***

Belinda’s sweet voice broke the suffocating silence. “You’ve really thought about how to tell Selena, haven’t you?”

“All the miscarriages she has had over the past five years would make her hate me if she knew I was pregnant with you.”

Andreas smiled the soft smile that once belonged to me. “Don’t worry, honey. I already have a plan for that.”

Their lips met again, sealing my ruin with a kiss.

I stumbled back, tossing the crushed cookies into the trash then ran to the bathroom before vomiting everything I’d eaten.

“Damn it!” I cursed while hitting the sink in front of me.

After three miscarriages in a five-year span, it became nearly impossible for me to conceive naturally. So, we turned to IVF and even considered surrogacy.

Each month, we worked hard to ensure the samples were perfect, until the doctor finally said to me that the IVF succeeded.

Luckily, this morning, the doctor said I might be able to carry the baby myself. So, I decided to be a mother again.

But then, the betrayal hit me.

My husband, the one I so desperately hoped would be happy with this news, already had a child with another woman.

My phone buzzed, Andreas’s name flashing on the screen.

“Where are you? The premiere’s starting soon,” he snapped, his tone sharp, nothing like the tender voice he’d used for Belinda minutes ago.

My eyes burned. So, this was the real reason for his coldness lately.

I used to blame his exhaustion, the long filming hours, the pressure of fame. But no, it wasn’t fatigue. It was simply because he did not love me anymore.

I bit my lips and answered quietly, “Behind you.”

He turned, startled. The moment his eyes met mine, he quickly hung up and slipped an arm around my waist as the paparazzi flashes exploded.

To the world, we looked like the perfect couple, the golden actor and his elegant wife.

But beneath his loving touch, I knew his warmth was fake, and already belonged to someone else.

I kept my face composed, expression frozen, as we walked into the cinema together.

“Are you feeling unwell?” he asked under his breath, irritation lacing his tone. “Why aren’t you smiling for the cameras?”

“I just got Botox yesterday,” I lied smoothly. “It’s hard to make an expression.”

He let out a small, annoyed huff, but then I saw his entire demeanor shifted when Belinda appeared.

I hated how she moved with effortless confidence, sitting beside my husband as if she owned the place.

Later, she leaned forward and kissed me on both cheeks, feigning warmth. “Long time no see, Selena. We finally met again. I’ve missed you.”

I smiled faintly, voice calm and polished, even though my heart burned with fury. “Yes.”

Throughout the film, I caught them whispering to each other, their shoulders brushing, their laughter soft and intimate.

Then came a message from Belinda, [Selena, I know you see us embracing each other in the waiting room. He is literally so obsessed with me. After all, what do you have to compete with me? As your bestie, I suggested, you should just give up this marriage.]

So, Belinda knew everything, no wonder she looked so proud in front of me. What a bitch!

As I kept my eye on the message, the scene everyone had been talking about came.

On the big screen, Andreas pressed Belinda against the wall, his mouth trailing down her chest, her moans echoing through the cinema.

The audience gasped in admiration, calling it “art,” “chemistry,” and “real passion.”

Real passion? Yes, because it was real!

They weren’t acting. They were lovers hiding behind a camera lens.

Well, it seemed they thought I was naïve. But they didn’t know I had wolves behind me.

My phone buzzed again. It was an answer for my message to my brother, Neil Sullivan, for my message minutes ago.

I sent him a photo of Andreas embracing Belinda and asked, [Is the offer from five years ago still valid? I can’t live with a cheater anymore.]

He replied, [I told you Andreas is a jerk! Don’t worry, I’ll help you talk to our father. Prepare to leave in two days.]

After the premiere, reporters swarmed us. Andreas played the perfect husband, pulling me close for the cameras.

“It was all because of my wife’s support,” he said proudly. “Without her permission, this movie wouldn’t exist.”

For the final act, he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

So, this was how an actor lied? It almost made me want to kick his ass hard.

He stayed behind to talk to interviewers while I limped toward the van, tearing off my stilettos—only to see someone already inside.

“Why are you here?!” I snapped, voice sharp at Belinda, who sat like she owned the seat.

She slowly stood, a cruel smile on her lips.

“Because I belong here,” she said, cold and sure.

I faced her directly. “Are you proud of being a parasite in our marriage?”

She smirked. “Why not? With this baby in my stomach, I’ll be the next Mrs. McMillan. And a barren woman like you will be kicked out like a stray dog. Pathetic.”

Before I could answer, the van door clicked open.