My Husband Chose His Pregnant Mistress Over Me

It had been nine years of being tangled up with Max.

On my birthday, his girlfriend crashed the party, declaring they were meant to be together and that I should consent to a divorce for their happiness. Max watched indifferently, expecting me to handle the situation as I always had with his difficult partners.

But that day, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me.

I stood up, gave him a smile, and said, "I'm going to get some fresh air in the garden."

Max barely noticed, likely thinking I was off to cry in solitude.

But an hour passed, then two, then three, and I didn’t return.

He came looking for me.

All he found was a burnt cigarette and a ring in the garden.

That's when he knew.

I wasn't coming back.

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Five years into our marriage, Max got involved with a ballet dancer, alluring and mysterious, named Amayah.

Someone once told me that when Max first saw Amayah, he was entranced by her ethereal movements, like a fairy dancing under the moon.

He kept her hidden, treating her like a cherished secret, not letting anyone see her.

Including me.

But now, Amayah had approached me, her eyes brimming with tears and accusations. "Mr. Nelson no longer loves you. The one he loves now is me. Do you really want to keep him stuck in a loveless marriage?"

"We're truly in love; you should agree to the divorce and let us have our happiness."

She cried pitifully, as though she were a victim being held back from her own joy by someone as terrible as me.

I found it laughable.

"True love? You fell for someone else’s husband; how does that not make you feel cheap?"

Hearing this, Amayah’s face went pale, but she cried even more pathetically:

"Yes, you’re right, it is cheap to love a married man, I deserve the criticism, but falling in love isn’t wrong!

"I just want to be with the person I love forever. I truly love Mr. Nelson; I don’t want to be apart from him.

"Can’t you just let us be?"

Her words were absurd and childish.

Yet Max found her adorable and bold, gently wiping her tears, comforting her, "Alright, sweetheart, calm down, I’ll be with you tonight."

His words left everyone stunned.

He was stomping all over my dignity for Amayah.

No other girlfriend had been indulged like this.

In the past, others had demanded separation, and Max made sure they regretted it.

He warned everyone:

"Regina is my wife; no one may disrespect her."

But today, Amayah wrecked my birthday, and Max not only condoned her actions but had his secretary personally drive her home afterward. He approached me, voice low, saying, "Don’t worry, I won’t let her act out again."

So don’t retaliate against her.

He was warning me.

I didn’t immediately nod, and Max's expression tightened, his gaze cold, "Regina, Amayah is young and naïve—"

Making excuses for her.

"I understand," I cut him off, nodding in agreement.

Max’s expression softened slightly, reaching for my hand, but I instinctively pulled away. Max's face fell, displeased; I just smiled at him and said, "I’m going to get some fresh air in the garden."

Max nodded, "Come back soon, we’ll be waiting to cut the cake."

"Alright."

I turned and walked away, and Max's eyes stayed on my back.

But I didn’t look back.

Not once.