He Called Our Baby's Death An Accident, So I Left Him Forever

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband dragged me out of bed and forced me to the hospital to deliver his mistress's baby.

"You're the most renowned obstetrician in this hospital. You're the only one I trust."

"It's Delilah's first time giving birth, and I can't let anything happen to her."

Because of those words, I had no choice but to put on a sterile surgical gown and quietly walk into the operating room.

By the time the surgery was over and the baby's cries echoed through the room, my legs had already gone weak, and cold sweat had soaked through the back of my scrubs.

Carrying the newborn wrapped in a sterile blanket, my voice had become hoarse.

"Sir, congratulations. The baby boy is very healthy."

I said those words to my husband, Alaric Vaughn.

And in my arms was the son of him and his mistress, Delilah Voss.

Alaric didn't notice the unfamiliar formality in the way I addressed him. He simply stepped forward with obvious joy and carefully took the baby into his arms.

He gazed at the tiny child for a long time, the corners of his lips lifting into the satisfied smile of a man becoming a father for the first time.

His eyes had even reddened slightly, as though he were deeply moved.

I lowered my gaze and gently rested a hand over my own slightly rounded stomach, unable to tell what I was feeling.

"Where's my sweetie?"

As soon as Alaric finished speaking, the nurses pushed Delilah out of the operating room.

She lay on the hospital bed, looking frail and pale, her face drained of color and covered in cold sweat.

Alaric's eyes lit up instantly. Holding the baby in his arms, he hurried past me to get to Delilah's side, bumping hard into me in the process.

My stomach slammed against the wall with such force that I could barely remain standing. Darkness flashed before my eyes.

But all of Alaric's attention was on Delilah.

One moment, he was gently stroking her hair. Next, he lowered his voice to ask after her.

"Sweetie, are you tired?"

"You did great. Our son is adorable..."

Bracing myself against the wall, I forced myself upright and slowly made my way back to the room. I changed out of my surgical scrubs and into a simple shirt and jeans.

Just as I finished, the door swung open.

Alaric walked in.

The gentleness he had shown moments ago was gone. His expression was somewhat indifferent.

He tossed the document in his hand onto the table, his voice lazy and casual.

"Sign it."

"It's only to make my sweetie happy. She said she doesn't want to be involved with a married man."

The moment my eyes landed on the words on the paper, my entire body froze, and my relaxed fingers abruptly tightened.

A divorce agreement. Alaric's signature was already there. It had even clearly stated in the agreement that I would leave with nothing, and that all assets would belong to Alaric.

I looked up at the man standing before me as if I were seeing him for the very first time. My eyes reddened, but I fought to keep my emotions under control.

We had been in love for nine years and married for seven.

Once, when he had been kidnapped, I had rushed to save him despite being pregnant. I had fought desperately against the kidnappers, only to be beaten so badly that I miscarried.

Once, for my sake, he had endured one hundred lashes from his mother. He had even agreed to give up his inheritance, insisting that he would marry me no matter what.

On the day we got married, Alaric's hot tears fell onto the back of my hand.

His solemn vow still seemed to echo in my ears.

"Darling, I will stay by your side until death separates us."

And now, he was the one breaking that promise.

The marriage we had once sacrificed everything to obtain had ended up like this.

Perhaps noticing the pain in my eyes, Alaric frowned and explained.

“Don’t worry. We’re not truly getting divorced. It's only to make Delilah feel better."

“You know how stubborn she’s been lately. She keeps pushing me to divorce you.”

“I only need the signed papers so I can take a picture and show her. I won’t submit them to the lawyer.”

Alaric spoke as casually as if he was discussing today’s weather, as though my feelings meant nothing.

“Once I’ve comforted her, I’ll come back to you.”

Hearing that, I only found it laughable. So laughable that my eyes began to sting. In his eyes, our marriage was apparently something that could be taken out and toyed with whenever he pleased.

“Besides, you’ve always been such an obedient wife. You won’t be difficult this time either, right?”

The smug curve of his lips made the question sound almost careless. In his eyes, I was probably nothing more than a fool who would give him whatever he wanted, no matter how unreasonable the request.

If he wanted to, he could sign divorce papers and stay with his mistress. If he wanted to, he could return to me afterward.

And I, no matter what happened, would remain exactly where I was, waiting for him forever.

“Fine. I’ll sign.”

My fingers trembled, yet I still forced myself to grip the pen and sign the divorce papers.

Then I handed them back to Alaric.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face. He seemed not to have expected that I wouldn't cry, make a scene, or desperately try to stop him the way I always had before.

After all, over the years, whenever I saw Alaric with another woman, I had always behaved like a madwoman.

But this time, I was truly tired.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Alaric quickly took a photo of the signed divorce papers and sent it to Delilah.

"Alright. Get some rest. I'll go check on Delilah."

Only then did he lazily glance at me. Bending down, he reached out, intending to pat my head the way he always did.

“Don’t worry. No one will ever take your place as Mrs. Vaughn.”

“Once Delilah calms down, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Haven’t you always wanted to see the Northern Lights? When I have time, I’ll take you there.”

The cloying scent of sweet roses lingering on his body made my stomach churn violently.

I bent over slightly, avoiding his hand.

"I'm a little tired. You should go."

My voice came out hoarse.

Alaric merely reminded me to drink more warm water before turning around and leaving the room.

Click.

The room fell silent once more.

I lifted my head and looked at the divorce papers lying on the table, my eyes gradually darkening.

The future? Was Alaric talking about the future?

There would never be a future for us again. We’re over.

He said he wouldn't submit the papers to the lawyer? Then I would.

Running my fingers lightly over the divorce agreement, I sent it to my personal lawyer and asked him to proceed with the divorce process with Alaric within a week.

Finally, I picked up my phone and called the director of the Obstetrics Department.

"Mrs. Jessica Monroe, I've decided to accept the invitation to join ‘The Dream’ Obstetrics Training Program in the United States."