When the debt collectors attacked, I stood in front of Clara and took the blows meant for her. Three ribs broken, internal injuries—pain pained nearly killed me. When the doctor later said my fertility might be impaired, Clara cried, held me tightly, and swore she would never leave.

I refused to surrender. Once our company recovered, I began treatment, step by step, with hope. Three years ago, the doctor told us I had made real progress. Clara and I were overjoyed, and soon after, she became pregnant—twins. I couldn’t sleep that night. I held her in my arms, tears streaming down my face, thanking heaven for finally granting us a miracle.

Now, facing her cold and determined eyes, my gaze fell to her belly. That same belly that once carried my dreams now felt like a knife to my heart. My throat tightened, tears blurring my sight.

“Clara,” I rasped, “that’s the child I’ve waited ten years for. Don’t you think it’s cruel to destroy them?”

For a moment, guilt flickered in her eyes. Then she looked away. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m doing this for Felix. I don’t want him to die with regrets.”

She hesitated, then continued, “Your sperm quality isn’t good. Even if this baby is born, it might have problems. Felix is young, healthy. If he fathers a child, that child will have a better future—a higher IQ, maybe even brilliance.”

I gave a bitter smile. “So, in your heart, I’m defective. And you think my child would be too.”

I took a trembling breath. “If it were just about having a child, we could have found a surrogate. Why kill mine? Or did you just want to make me a living cuckold?”

Her face flushed red. “ Ethan, how can you speak like that? What do you mean by ‘cuckold’? Felix’s child is a blessing—no one else deserves it! I told you, we did it only for the baby. At that moment, I... I was still thinking of you!”

The room fell into uneasy silence. Our friends and relatives looked away, coughing awkwardly. One by one, they excused themselves, muttering half-hearted comfort before leaving.

Clara straightened her coat and said quietly, “ Ethan, I know you’re hurt. But I’m doing this for the future. Only with the best child can the Lynn Group truly thrive. Think it over.”

Then she walked out, closing the door behind her.

I collapsed onto the sofa, hollow and numb.

Moments later, my phone buzzed with a message from a friend. Clara had gone to the hospital. Felix Shane was by her side during the procedure, feeding her chicken soup afterward. In the photo, she leaned weakly against him, pale but content, sipping from the spoon he held.

My vision blurred as I stared at the attached image—the abortion slip. My heart plunged into ice. I had endured debt, humiliation, and her pain, but I could not protect the life we had waited a decade for.

I took a deep breath, dialed a number. “Victor James,” I said steadily, “I’ll take your offer. I’ll handle your overseas expansion—and I won’t be coming back.”

That night, I packed my things, printed the divorce papers, and went to the hospital. When I opened the door, I saw them—Clara resting in Felix’s arms, their smiles freezing when they saw me.

I didn’t shout or curse. I simply handed her the papers. “Sign it.”

Her hands trembled. “ Ethan… you really want a divorce?”

Her voice rose with anger. “We’ve suffered and fought for ten years! Is it all a joke to you? Can’t you understand me, just once?”

She tore the papers apart and threw them at me, sobbing.

I stood there silently, watching her cry in another man’s arms. The woman who once swore to love me forever had finally broken every promise she made.

When the debt collectors attacked, I pushed in front of Clara and took the blows. Three ribs broken, internal injuries that nearly killed me. When the doctor said my fertility might be damaged, she wept, hugged me, and promised to stay.

I refused to give up. Once the company stabilized, I began treatment, steady and relentless. Three years later, the doctor said I’d made progress. Clara and I tried for a child. When she told me she was carrying twins, I stayed awake all night, holding her, tears on my face.

Now, staring at Clara’s determined eyes, my gaze dropped to her belly. The joy I’d felt became a raw ache. My voice broke. “Clara, that’s the child I’ve waited ten years for. How can you end them?”

A flicker of guilt crossed her face. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m doing this for Felix. I don’t want him to carry regret.”

“You said my sperm quality is poor,” I said. “You said the baby might be born with defects.”

“Felix is young and healthy,” she said. “If he fathers the child, the child will have a better future—better genes.”

I smiled without humor. “So in your mind I’m broken, and any child of mine would be broken too.”

“If it were only about having a child, we could have used a surrogate,” I said. “Why abort ours? Or are you deliberately making me a cuckold?”

Her face flushed. “ Ethan, how can you say that? Felix’s child deserves a chance.” She added, strained, “We did it for the child. I was thinking of you then.”

Relatives and friends shifted uneasily. One person rose, murmured condolences, and left; others followed.

“ Ethan,” someone said, “I know you’re hurting. But this is for the future. Only the best heir can secure the Lynn Group. Think about it.”

They closed the door. I sank onto the sofa, the shock washing over me.

A friend texted: Clara had been admitted. Felix stayed by her side during the procedure and fed her soup afterward. In the photo, she leaned into him, pale but comforted. The abortion consent form in the message hit me like cold metal.

I had endured beatings and rumors, yet I could not protect the life we had waited a decade for. Defeated, I made a call. “Mr. James, I’ll take your offer to develop your overseas market. I won’t return.”

I packed a bag, printed divorce papers, and went to the hospital. Felix lay on his side, holding Clara in his arms. Their smiles died when they saw me. I did not shout. I calmly placed the papers before her.

“Sign them.”

Her hands shook. Tears welled. “ Ethan…you want a divorce?”

Anger flared. “We’ve suffered ten years together. Is that nothing to you? Can’t you understand me?”

She tore the papers and flung the pieces at me. I watched as she sobbed and curled into Felix’s embrace.

Without warning, Felix lunged and struck me hard. Pain exploded across my face. He straddled me, pulled my hair, and rained blows. Blood filled my mouth. Everything spun.

In pain I grabbed a stool and hit him. He cried out and fell. I scrambled up and kicked him. A lunchbox smashed into my head. Dizziness blurred everything.

Clara’s voice cut through: “ Ethan, how could you? You hit Felix with a chair!” She rushed to him, cradled his head, and left for the clinic with him, not looking back.

I lay on the floor, aching and numb, staring at the ceiling as our lives scattered like torn paper.

Everyone in the room turned on me, indignant as if I were a heartless beast. Their voices rose, accusing me of neglect and cruelty.

Felix leaned weakly against Clara’s shoulder. “Ms. Clara, I’m dizzy. Don’t be angry with Ethan.” “He only wanted to threaten you with the child so he could seize the Lynn Group’s assets. Or he wanted a disabled heir to control us.”

I could no longer hold back. I threw the test results at him and lashed out, punching Felix in the chest. “You bastard—say another word. Who’s the cripple?” Grief and rage tore through me. The child I had waited for was gone; I could not accept that lie.

Felix collapsed with a thud, eyes rolling back. Clara screamed, clutching him. “Felix, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me!” Her voice was high. She stepped up, shouting, “ Ethan, if anything happens to him, I won’t forgive you.”

The onlookers’ anger sharpened. “How could you be so brutal? In public?” “Call the police! Men like him are dangerous.” “Domestic violence—call the police!”

Felix’s breathing stuttered, then steadied. He opened his eyes and, in a small voice, tried to soothe her. “Ms. Clara, you just had surgery. Don’t be angry. I’m fine. This is my fault—please don’t hit me again.” He looked at me with a timid, pleading expression. “If you really killed me, it would ruin Ms. Clara’s reputation.”

Clara’s expression shifted; the calculation returned. She clenched her jaw. “ Ethan, I’ve indulged you. It’s time you learned a lesson.” She called the police.

The officers arrived quickly. Felix still leaned in Clara’s arms, pale and breathless. “We received a report of a public assault,” one officer said. “Who is the suspect?”

Clara straightened, righteous fury painted on her face, and pointed at me. “Officer, it’s him. He attacked my friend in public. Arrest him.”

Spectators nodded. “He neglected his wife during a miscarriage and then made a scene—assaulted an innocent man.” “Arrest him now, or I’ll punch him myself.” Their voices closed in like a verdict.

I tried to explain the truth—that I had been attacked first and the consent forms were real—but my words dissolved under their judgment. I suddenly felt small in a room of witnesses. The police produced cuffs and approached. I stared only at Clara, and she did not flinch.

An hour later, we sat across from each other in an interrogation room. Under bright light, I told the officers: the debt collectors, my injuries, the treatments, the pregnancy, the abortion arrangement, and that Shane struck me first. The officer listened, bluntly.

“No matter the motive, there is clear evidence you assaulted someone,” he said. “Assault is a crime. Pregnancy complications are moral matters—tragic, painful—but they don’t excuse violence.”

Felix, clutching his head, took a few steps and then halted. “Officer, forget it,” he murmured. “I’m fine. Say a few kind words and drop it.”

Clara roared, voice shaking. “No, officer. You must hold him accountable. Put him where he belongs. Otherwise, who knows how brutal he will be next time?”

They pressed their case. Outside, rain began, each drop an accusation.

Memories flooded me—ten years of rebuilding, the nights we stayed late at the factory, the time she carried my jacket through winter, the promise she made when my ribs were broken. All of it now felt like a bargain she had rescinded. I had loved her with a trust that made me blind; now that trust lay in pieces. I wondered who had quietly replaced the woman I knew.