Adeline’s Pov

“Dad… please come pick me up in one week. I’m ready to marry Creighton’s heir like you wanted,” I whispered into the phone, my voice shaking.

“Marry? Honey, what are you saying? Aren’t you married to Ethan?” my dad asked, confused and worried.

“Not anymore, I’m getting a divorce,” I choked out, tears filling my eyes. “Tell Mom to start the wedding preparations.”

Before he could say another word, I ended the call. The phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor. My whole body trembled as I buried my face in my palms.

Two years ago, I thought I was living a perfect life. Now I know it was all a lie.

Three weeks ago, I was in a terrible car accident. My car was hanging by the edge of a cliff. I was nine months pregnant, bleeding, terrified, and alone.

At the hospital, the doctors called my husband to get consent to operate. Ninety-nine missed calls, but no response.

Then finally, on the hundredth try, he answered.

“Adeline,” Ethan’s cold voice came through the phone, “why are you so desperate for attention? I told you I have a meeting. Stop bothering me.”

Before I could say anything, a woman’s voice sounded beside him.

“Ethan, honey, hurry, let’s go to the party before it’s over,” she said.

That voice… I knew it too well.

It belonged to Clara, his first love. Six months ago, she returned from London crying, bruised, and begging Ethan for help. She said her husband had abused her and that she had nowhere else to go since she was an orphan.

Ethan didn’t want her near him at first, but I begged him to forgive her.

“She needs help, Ethan,” I told him. “Please. You can’t turn your back on her.”

Reluctantly, he agreed and helped her process her divorce. I even convinced him to let her move in with us.

Three months ago, she told me she was pregnant, she said it was her ex-husband’s child and I believed her.

I took care of her like a sister. I cooked for her, drove her to her doctor’s appointments, and watched her belly grow, never knowing I was nurturing my own betrayal.

The call ended, and I stared at the phone with tears blurring my vision. My hands pressed against my stomach, trying to protect the life inside me, but it was too late.

Because of the delay, my baby didn’t survive.

I went into a coma and woke up days later in a hospital bed. And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, I overheard Ethan’s voice outside my room.

“Mr. Morales,” the doctor said, sounding frustrated, “I can’t keep her in a coma anymore. Her life is in danger if I keep inducing her. The stem-cell transplant surgery has already been done, and Clara has recovered. It’s only fair Adeline wakes up now.”

“Fair?” Ethan snapped. “If Adeline wakes up now, she’ll find out I caused her accident just to get her stem cells for Clara! I need her unconscious until Clara gives birth to my son.”

My heart stopped.

So all this while, I’d been taking care of Clara and her pregnancy, feeding her, helping her, loving her like family not knowing she was sleeping with my husband, pregnant for him, and stealing my life behind my back.

The doctor gasped. “Mr. Morales, that’s not possible! She could die if—”

“I don’t care!” Ethan shouted. “You’ve been paid enough. If you ruin this for me, I’ll ruin you!”

I pressed my trembling hand against my chest as silent tears rolled down my cheeks. The air around me felt heavy, choking me.

My husband, the man I loved, had tried to kill me all to save another woman and not just any woman, but the same one who abandoned him at the altar three years ago.

Three years ago, he climbed the highest building to end his life, and I saved him.

Now this is how he repays me, by destroying my life and that of my unborn child to save his first love.

What a cruel twist of fate.

When they walked away, I reached for my phone with shaking hands and called my lawyer.

“Mr. Harris,” I said, my voice flat, “prepare the divorce papers. I want them signed before the week ends.”

I hung up and let the phone fall onto the sheets. Feeling pressed, I dragged my weak body out of the ward as my legs trembled.

As I stepped into the hallway, laughter drifted from one of the rooms nearby.

Frowning as the voices were familiar, I moved closer, my heart pounding with dread.

Through the half-closed blinds, I saw Ethan sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, brushing Clara’s hair away from her face. She smiled up at him, her hand resting on her swollen belly.

“You did it, Ethan,” she whispered. “Our baby is safe.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “He’s worth everything I lost.”

My breath hitched. I pressed my palm to my mouth to stop the sob that tried to escape. Everything I lost… those were his words.

I turned away, trembling, my vision blurring as I stumbled into the bathroom. The fluorescent light buzzed above me as I gripped the sink, staring at the woman in the mirror. I looked pale, hollow-eyed, and miserable.

The door opened and Clara’s reflection appeared behind me.

“Why are you hiding, Adeline? Don't you wanna take care of me and my baby now?” she asked in a mocking voice.

I ignored her and splashed water on my face, “Get lost, Clara.”

Clara pouted, “That’s not a very nice way to talk to me, Adeline, considering I'm the one who’s been making all the decisions around here.”

I finally spared her a glance, “What do you want? Is it because you're pregnant for my husband? You're nothing but a whore I took pity on and helped.”

Clara’s face scrunched up with anger as she smiled, “I know that, Adeline. I'm grateful you brought me into your home which is why I wanna show you a picture of your cute son before he died.”

I scoffed, “What nonsense are you talking about? My son died even before he was born.”

Clara giggled, “Oh my! Didn't the doctor tell you? Your son was perfectly alive after he was born except you slipped into a coma so you couldn't see him.”

My heart lurched, “A… are you joking right now?”

Clara brought out her phone and showed me a picture of a newborn baby boy.

Tears gathered in my eyes as I stared at him. “He’s so perfect… oh my sweet baby boy, he has my eyes.” I cried.

Clara grinned, “Yes, such a beautiful boy.”

“Where is he?” I demanded.

Clara smiled wickedly, “See that's the issue, your son was too perfect and I couldn't have anyone contending with the position of my son as Ethan’s heir.”

My throat closed up as I stared at her, “What do you mean, Clara? What did you do?”

Clara shrugged, “Nothing, I just simply pointed out that the child’s stem-cell would be a perfect fit for me. The doctors advised Ethan that your child might not survive the procedure but he insisted and unfortunately, your child died. I mean, that's what I wanted but I didn't know your husband would…”

I lunged at her, shrieking like a wild animal as I clawed at her neck, “You monster, you killed my child!”

“Ethan, help me!” Clara screamed.

The door flew open. Ethan stood in the frame, eyes wide for a heartbeat, then hard.

He crossed the room in two long steps and yanked me by the hair as he flung me across the bathroom.

The world titled, pain flashed across the back of my head as I tasted blood.

“How could you?” Ethan yelled at me.

Rage bubbled inside me as I glared at him, “She killed my son! Both of you —”

“You attacked a pregnant woman, you don't deserve to be a mother, that's why your son died!” Ethan interrupted me sharply.

A whimper escaped my lips as my throat constricted from his harsh words but he barely spared me a glance as he carried Clara bridal style, leaving me in a pool of blood on the bathroom floor.

I sat up on the bathroom floor and then it dawned on me that Ethan only cared about Clara.

In seven days I will leave. But I won't go quietly, I'll make them regret ever hurting me and my child.

Adeline’s Pov

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my ward.

The smell of disinfectant stung my nose, and my head throbbed. My body ached as if I’d been dragged across broken glass.

The doctor was standing beside my bed, writing something on my chart, his face pale and stiff.

“Mrs. Morales,” he said quietly, not looking at me, “if something like today happens again, you might lose your womb.”

I stared at him. My voice came out rough. “How much?”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“How much did he pay you to steal my stem cells and kill my son?”

His pen froze mid-air. “Mrs. Morales, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Don’t lie to me,” I said, my voice shaking. “You did it. You helped them. Now discharge me before I make you regret it.”

His shoulders sagged. Without another word, he handed me the papers. I signed them with trembling fingers.

“You should really stay a few more days,” he murmured.

“I’d rather die than spend another second here,” I said coldly.

He lowered his gaze. “Please… be careful, ma’am.”

I didn’t answer. I grabbed my things and walked out. My legs were weak, but my anger was stronger.

—

When I reached the mansion, the same one I gifted Ethan on our first wedding anniversary, my chest tightened.

I had chosen every color, every curtain, thinking this would be the home where our children grew up.

Now it felt like a grave.

I pushed the door open. Laughter spilled from the living room.

Clara was curled up on Ethan’s chest, her swollen feet in his hands as he massaged them gently.

A bitter laugh escaped me. I remembered asking Ethan once to massage my feet when I was seven months pregnant. He had thrown ten dollars on the table and said, “Ask a maid. I don’t do dirty jobs.”

Now he was doing that “dirty job” with a smile.

“You two look cozy,” I said, forcing a smile.

Ethan’s hand froze. He pulled away from Clara, his face tightening. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay in the hospital.”

“Why?” I asked quietly. “So you could keep pretending I don’t exist?”

He glared. “Don’t start. Clara is pregnant. You’re supposed to take care of her, not cause trouble.”

My throat burned. “You killed my child for her.”

“Enough!” he snapped. “If you weren’t so unstable, maybe your child would still be alive.”

The words slammed into me like a blade. I couldn’t breathe.

I turned away before he could see the tears in my eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone soon.”

Upstairs, I stopped outside the nursery door.

It used to smell like baby powder. I had spent nights painting clouds on the ceiling, laughing as Ethan teased me for being too detailed.

Now the door was half-open. I pushed it wider and froze. Everything was gone. The crib, the stuffed toys, even the blue curtains I had sewn myself were all gone.

The walls had been painted pale pink, with a name I didn’t recognize written above the crib: “Baby Jared.”

My heart cracked. I stepped inside and saw my baby’s ultrasound photo on the floor, the glass shattered.

I knelt and reached for it. “My sweet boy…” I whispered.

A sharp heel pressed down on my hand. Pain seared through my skin as glass bit deep.

Clara’s voice came from behind me, sweet and cruel. “Oops. Did I step on something precious?”

I looked up at her, shaking. “What is wrong with you?”

She smiled. “Oh, don’t be mad. Ethan said I could take over this room since… well, you don’t need it anymore.”

My hand bled onto the floor. I stood, glaring at her. “You’re a monster.”

I stood up, cradling my bleeding hand and she gave me a mock pity look.

“Oh my, are you okay, Adeline? Why would you hurt yourself because of me? You could have just told me to leave the nursery room,” Clara said in a loud voice as she began sobbing.

“What are you saying?” I asked her in a confused voice.

“Omg, Adeline, stop hurting yourself!” she shrieked.

I was still staring at her confused when Ethan appeared in the doorway and saw me cradling my bleeding hand.

“What are you doing now?” he asked me in a bored voice.

“I didn't do anything. She's the one —”

But Clara interrupted me, “I’m the one who made her hurt herself, Ethan. She got upset that you asked me to take over the nursery.”

I stared at her, shocked, “But that's not what —”

“Enough!” Ethan snapped, “I don't want to hear your crazy stories, Adeline, I've tolerated your bullshit enough.”

Just then Clara picked up a customized diamond necklace, “Ooh, this is so pretty, I want it,” she said.

“No, that's my —” the words were hardly out of my lips when the necklace fell from her hand and broke.

I stared at the broken pieces of my baby’s customized diamond necklace picture, that was all I had of him left.

“Oops,” Clara whispered smugly.

I stared at the broken necklace pieces, the diamonds glittering under the light like tiny tears.

It was the only thing left of my son, a diamond necklace with his ultrasound etched inside a crystal pendant.

My breath caught. My knees hit the floor. “How could you? This is the only —”

“Adeline,” Ethan said, voice flat. “Don’t start again. Clara is pregnant. She can’t be stressed.”

Clara sniffled dramatically and clung to him. “I’m sorry, Ethan, I didn’t mean to upset her.”

He cupped her cheek tenderly, right there in front of me. “It’s not your fault, besides it’s just a necklace.”

Just a necklace? I had customized that necklace specifically for my son!

I pressed my bloody hand against the floor to steady myself, “It’s not just a necklace, Ethan! That was the last thing left of my son.”

Clara’s lips twitched, almost smiling behind his shoulder. “Poor thing, maybe she should get therapy, Ethan. She's been unstable since the accident,” she whispered, loud enough for me to hear.

“I don't need help, I just need you to stop taking what doesn't belong to you!” I snapped at Clara.

“Maybe Clara is right and you need therapy,” Ethan said.

Just as he finished speaking two bodyguards entered the room and held me.

“What is going on here? Let me go, Ethan!” I cried, struggling against the guards.

Ethan crossed his arms. “You’ve lost control again, Adeline. You need help.”

“I don’t need help! She’s lying!” I shouted, turning to him with tears in my eyes. “You can’t even see it, can you? She’s using you!”

Clara sniffled and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Ethan, I’m scared. Please don’t let her near me. What if she hurts the baby next time?”

That did it. Ethan’s face hardened. “Enough. Take her to the hospital for therapy now.”

“Ethan, please—” I begged. “You’re sending your wife away because of her?”

He didn’t answer. He just turned his back and walked away, his hand resting protectively on Clara’s waist as if I were the danger.

The guards dragged me out while Clara’s trembling voice followed behind, mockingly.

“I’ll take good care of your husband while you get the help you need, Adeline.”

I screamed her name, but the door slammed shut before I could reach her.

Adeline’s Pov

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the cold. I was strapped to a narrow bed in a white room that smelled of bleach.

A man in a doctor’s coat stood beside me, humming softly as he checked a syringe.

“Where am I?” I whispered.

He smiled without looking up. “Your husband said you needed help. Don’t worry, Mrs. Morales. I’m here to fix you.”

The needle slid into my arm before I could speak. My head spun, my tongue heavy from the drug. I tried to speak but couldn’t, my wrists fighting uselessly against the straps.

The doctor glanced at me, “Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel better. Just relax.”

He pressed a button. Pain shot through my body like lightning. I screamed.

“Shh…” he said softly. “It’s part of the treatment.”

For two days, I lost track of time. My body ached from the shocks, my throat burned from crying.

Every time I begged to go home, they injected me again. I heard the nurses whisper when they thought I was asleep.

“Clara said not to leave marks,” one murmured.

“Pity,” the other replied. “She paid so well.”

That was when I realized that Clara had arranged a torture session for me and pretended it was therapy.

By the second evening, I couldn’t even cry anymore. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for it to end.

When the door opened, Ethan walked in later that night as I've been discharged.

I thought I’d cry or shout but I didn’t. I just stared at him, unable to say a word.

He frowned. “You look terrible. It’s only been two days.”

Only two days. I didn’t reply. I didn’t have the strength to. I just kept shivering from the cold weather, it was raining heavily outside.

“Let’s go,” he said flatly. “Clara’s waiting at home. She needs me.”

Of course she did. He didn’t even help me stand. I followed him silently, each step burning through my legs.

In the car, the silence was unbearable. The city lights blurred outside my window. I stared at my hands, I was trembling and cold but he didn't spare me any glance.

Then his phone rang. Clara’s voice came through the speaker, trembling and soft.

“Ethan! Please, come home. The baby… something’s wrong. He’s not moving!”

Ethan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. Without a word, he pulled the car to the side and unlocked my door.

“Get out.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“I said get out, Adeline. Clara needs me.”

“You’re leaving me here?”

His eyes met mine for a second, flat and cold. “You’ll manage.”

The door slammed, and the car sped off, splashing mud across my skirt.

I stood by the roadside, shaking in the rain, watching the red taillights fade away.

I tried to cross, but my vision blurred as headlights flashed, a horn blared, and then everything went dark.

—

When I woke up again, I was in another hospital bed. My body hurts everywhere. A dull pain pulsed deep in my stomach.

A doctor walked in quietly, his face grim. “Mrs. Morales,” he said, “you’re lucky to be alive. But… we had to perform an emergency surgery. The damage was severe. I’m sorry but you’ve lost your womb.”

My world stopped.

I stared at him, my lips trembling. “What… what did you just say?”

He lowered his eyes. “There was too much internal bleeding. You won’t be able to conceive again.”

My breath came out in shallow gasps. The monitor beside me beeped rapidly as tears slid down my cheeks.

A knock sounded on the door. Clara stepped inside, dressed in soft pink, her hands resting gently on her round belly.

“Oh dear,” she said, feigning sympathy. “I heard you had a little accident. Such a shame about… your womb.” She tilted her head, smiling. “But look on the bright side, now you can focus on helping me raise our child.”

I gripped the blanket. “Why are you everywhere? Are you stalking me?”

Clara laughed wickedly, “I only came to admire my handwork. I’m not happy you survived the accident when I gave them clear instructions but at least now you can't have any child for Ethan.”

My chest tightened and before I could stop myself, I yanked her hair, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“How could you? Isn't it enough you've killed my son, what more do you want?”

“Help!” Clara cried out.

The door opened suddenly as Ethan walked in with the doctor, their eyes going wide in disbelief.

“It’s barely twenty-four hours and you're attacking her again?!” Ethan snapped, pushing me roughly.

I fell from the bed as my back hit the edge of the bed, ripping my stitches open and I started bleeding again.

“Ethan,” I whispered, “she did this to me—she sent the people who ran me down —”

He cut me off. “Stop lying. I'm tired of your antics!”

I froze. “What?”

“I caught the man who hit you,” he said, tossing a file onto my bed. “He confessed. You paid him to hit you. I'm so disgusted by you I can't even look at you right now.”

I stared at him, horrified. “That’s not true! You think I’d do that to myself?”

Ethan scoffed. “Of course you would. You’d do anything for attention.”

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open with shock but before I could speak he continued.

He stepped closer, his voice low and cruel. “How low are you willing to go for attention, Adeline? You’ve lost your mind. Clara has done everything to make you feel better but you keep attacking her! How evil can you be?”

“I lost my child, Ethan!” I cried. “And now—”

He turned away before I could finish. “Enough. Clara’s baby shower is tonight. Try to act like a decent human being for once. Help her get ready.”

Clara leaned close, smiling sweetly. “Don’t worry, Adeline. I’ll make sure Ethan saves you a slice of cake.”

The door slammed behind him as he left with a smirking Clara.

I sat there, staring at the hospital gown that was now stained with blood. My hands trembled as my phone buzzed beside me.

It was a message from Mr. Harris, my lawyer:

“Divorce papers have been delivered.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, the last one I’d ever cry for Ethan Morales.