My Husband Left Me for His Assistant, Now He Begs Me Back

He was supposed to be with me at my prenatal appointment.

Then Richard Weiss got a phone call, and the color drained from his face in an instant.

He looked at me, his expression torn and anguished.

"Vera Sullivan, Brenda's flight is today. She's leaving the country for good."

"This is the last time. I have to go see her off."

I rested my hand on my belly and watched him in silence.

"Do you really have to go?"

Richard's voice trembled. He couldn't meet my eyes.

"Vera, after this, I'll be a good husband to you. I promise."

"The three of us—you, me, and the baby—we'll be a real family."

Then he turned and walked out without looking back.

He didn't see me collapse to the floor behind him.

In the operating room, the doctor confirmed it one more time.

"The baby is still viable. Are you certain you want to proceed?"

I closed my eyes and nodded.

I didn't want it anymore. I didn't want Richard Weiss anymore either.

——

Brenda James's name had been the forbidden word between Richard and me.

No one had spoken it in a long time.

Hearing it again today felt like a memory from another life.

Richard's face had been twisted with guilt and pain.

Just like the time he'd knelt before me and begged for my forgiveness.

He'd sworn on everything he held sacred that he would cut ties with Brenda James completely.

The voice barely sounded like mine. It was strangely calm.

But Richard had already left without looking back.

His retreating figure was resolute. Unwavering.

And I laughed.

A sharp pain tore through my lower abdomen. Blood pooled on the floor beneath me.

This baby was never going to make it.

...

After the surgery, I came home looking like a ghost.

The apartment was dark. Richard wasn't there.

No calls. No messages.

I tugged at the corners of my mouth in a bitter mockery of a smile.

Where Richard was needed no explanation.

I was heading for the bedroom when the front door swung open.

Richard was back.

He looked at me with a flicker of surprise, something evasive shifting behind his eyes.

"Vera, what are you doing up? Why aren't you resting?"

"How did the appointment go today?"

He stepped forward to put his arm around me.

That's when I smelled it. Perfume. Not mine. Not his.

My gaze traveled to his neck, and there it was—a smear of red, just above his collar.

I should have been furious. Instead, all I felt was the quiet finality of something settling into place. Relief, almost.

No accusations. No hysterics.

I stepped back, revolted.

"Richard, I want a divorce."

He froze. Then irritation crept into his voice.

"What the hell do you want from me, Vera?"

"I told you, that was the last time!"

"Why can't you just be understanding for once?"

I stared at the man unraveling in front of me, and my vision blurred for a moment.

He almost never raised his voice at me.

In everyone's eyes, Richard Weiss adored me.

I'd believed it too.

He'd drop a fortune at auction to win me the finest jewelry. He'd arranged fireworks that lit up the entire Crestfield skyline on my birthday, just to see me smile.

...

The gestures were endless.

Until she appeared. His new assistant, Brenda James.

All I'd done was ask Brenda to get out of the passenger seat of Richard's car.

Brenda's eyes had welled up with wounded tears.

And Richard had snapped at me.

That was the moment I knew. Richard had crossed a line with Brenda James.

I cried. I screamed. I even threatened to expose Brenda and make sure she'd never work in Crestfield again.

Richard—a man whose pride could fill a cathedral—got on his knees in front of me.

He said he'd end it. Completely.

He said it was just a momentary lapse.

He said he'd fire Brenda James and never see her again.