Ex-husband Last Regret

Vivian pov

“Vivian, the pregnancy is ectopic. We need to perform surgery immediately.”

My face turned pale. I had anticipated this outcome, but I still held onto a glimmer of hope.

The doctor’s diagnosis shattered my last remaining hope.

A dull ache spread through my chest, making it hard to breathe.

After a moment of contemplation, I sent a tentative message to DominicBlackwood: What if we have a child?

He replied with just three words: You think you qualify?

With red-rimmed eyes, I forced a smile. Even if the baby were healthy, he would never allow me to keep it.

“Let’s do it now,” I said, my voice steady.

“I must inform you that due to the location of the pregnancy, we will need to remove part of your fallopian tube…”

My mind buzzed, making it hard for me to catch the rest of the doctor’s words.

I knew better than anyone that removing the fallopian tube meant it would be difficult for me to conceive in the future. It was as if my chance to become a mother was being stripped away.

This news was a devastating blow.

Suppressing the pain in my chest, I sent another message to Dominic: What if I can’t have children in the future?

His response was as cold as ever: If you’re sick, see a doctor. Don’t drag me into it.

I felt as if my heart had been brutally sliced open. I had almost forgotten that to DominicBlackwood, I was nothing more than someone who warmed his bed. He didn’t care whether I could have children; as long as I was useful in bed, that was all that mattered.

My fingers turned white as I gripped the pen, ultimately signing the consent form for the surgery. My handwriting nearly pressed through the dozens of pages.

Before entering the operating room, the doctor asked, “Would you like us to notify a family member to accompany you?”

I shook my head.

The Carter family viewed me as a tool for financial gain, while the Blackwood family was cold and indifferent. As for my true family and friends, I couldn’t bear to let them share in my suffering.

Over the years, I had grown accustomed to shouldering my burdens alone.

I was allergic to anesthesia, so I felt everything. I wasn’t as strong as I had imagined; two tears slipped down my cheeks.

During the procedure, Dominiccalled me dozens of times, sending messages that were as cold and arrogant as ever: “Vivian Carter, you need to get back home right now.”

I knew he was back, and despite the pain, I returned to the Blackwood family.

As soon as my mother-in-law, Margaret Blackwood, saw me, she erupted in anger. “You really are something else! All you do is laze around and shop, leaving your husband waiting for so long. Why didn’t you just die out there?”

My sister-in-law, Isabella Blackwood, couldn’t help but mock me when she saw the pale look on my face. “You look so bad, did you get caught cheating?”

I pressed my pale lips together. Ever since I married into the Blackwood family, Margaret Blackwood had let go of several maids under the pretense of saving money, leaving me to handle nearly all the household affairs. I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to throw her lazy accusations at me.

The other servants had also taken sides, giving me the cold shoulder.

To put it bluntly, even the family dog could have walked all over me.

For three years, I had endured insults and humiliation to support my love, but the loss of my child had become the last straw, pushing me to the brink of no longer wanting to endure.

“Shut up!”

Margaret Blackwood and Isabella Blackwood were both taken aback. When had I, the usually gentle woman, ever spoken so fiercely?

It wasn’t until my figure disappeared around the corner of the stairs that they snapped back to reality.

“Looks like the little brat has learned to stand up for herself and dared to yell at me?”

“Heh, my brother will deal with her properly later!”

In the study.

Dominic Blackwoodheld a half-burned cigarette between his fingers, smoke curled around his face.

As soon as I stepped into the study, I couldn’t help but cough a couple of times.

He stubbed out his cigarette, his dark eyes fixed on me as they locked onto my face, causing the atmosphere around us to grow tense and frigid.

As I approached, he gripped my throat tightly, his voice devoid of any warmth. “Daring to ignore my orders? You’ve got some nerve.”

It felt as if he could snap my slender neck with just a slight squeeze, and the humiliation of our past flooded back into my mind.

Though we had been married for three years, we had rarely seen each other, and this time he had been away for two months before returning home.

Throughout it all, I, as the neglected wife, had never uttered a word of complaint. Yet, after just a brief delay of fifteen minutes, I was met with such crude treatment.

At first, I thought this was just his personal quirk, but I later realized he simply loathed my face. Unfortunately, I held the title of Mrs. Blackwood, which meant he took out his frustrations on me, finding ways to humiliate and torment me.

With red-rimmed eyes, I looked at him, my voice breaking as I pleaded, “DominicBlackwood, don’t touch me!”

He glanced at my pale face, a flicker of crimson igniting in his cold gaze.

I had the audacity to show him a scowl the moment he got home while smiling sweetly at other men.

His breath turned even colder, and he couldn’t help but sneer, “If you don’t want me to touch you, who do you plan to let?”

I felt he was just being unreasonable. I coldly replied, “DominicBlackwood, I’m not feeling well and I don’t want to argue with you.”

He sneered and slammed a stack of photos onto my face. “Vivian Carter, how cheap can you be? I haven’t touched you in two months, and you can’t wait to go out and find some other man!”

The sharp edges of the photos cut into my skin, bright red blood oozing from my pale complexion. Yet, I felt no pain at all; I simply lowered my gaze to the mess scattered on the floor.

The man in the photos was James scott, whom I had coincidentally run into at the hospital. He was not only my college classmate but also my business partner.

When friends meet, it’s natural to exchange pleasantries, but the person taking the photos seemed to have captured our angles in a deliberately intimate way.

I opened my mouth to explain, but Dominic Blackwoodhad no intention of giving me that chance. He suddenly tightened his grip.

A suffocating sense of despair washed over me, a coldness spreading through my limbs.

Indeed, it was only when one felt extreme pain that one could truly see their situation.

He didn’t love me; in fact, he hated me. He resented me for marrying him out of gratitude and for taking the place of his first love.

Just as I was about to faint, he suddenly released his grip. “I keep you around to play the role of Mrs. Blackwood, not to go out and seduce other men.”

He grabbed a tissue and wiped his fingers harshly, as if he had touched something incredibly filthy. A cold, disgusted expression spread across his handsome face.

My body seemed to lose all support as I slid down onto the cold floor, fainting and drifting into a haze for the entire night.

In my dreams, I saw a seventeen-year-old DominicBlackwood.

The boy, dressed in a crisp white shirt, magically pulled out candy from his pocket. “Here, kid, have a piece of candy. Maybe this will make things hurt a little less.

The candy was so sweet, it made my eyes sparkle. I didn’t know if the sweetness could chase away my troubles; all I knew was that he was etched into my heart.

The scene shifted, and Dominicseemed like a different person. His actions grew harsher, and his handsome face became twisted and glaring under the overhead light.

He said, “Vivian Carter, give me a kidney, and I’ll help your family, the Carters. It’s a fair trade, each getting what they need. Don’t expect me to love you; that would just be pathetic.”

But facing the man I had loved for ten years, it was hard for me to see this marriage as merely a transaction.

I poured my heart and soul into him, hoping to warm his heart.

Yet the more I cared for him, the more he tormented and humiliated me.

I felt suffocated, my body wracked with unbearable pain.

“Dominic Blackwood, don’t!”