My Husband Left Me for His Mistress

At four months pregnant, I was drowning in relentless morning sickness.

After another round of heaving into the toilet, I stumbled out looking like death warmed over just as Lawson caught sight of me. I expected him to brush past me like always, so I was thrown when he handed me a towel, a flicker of something almost like concern in his eyes. But as he stepped closer, I caught it—the faint, lingering perfume of another woman clinging to his shirt.

Just as my fingers brushed the towel, he said, "Jazmine, we should get a divorce."

"There's a woman whose parents are pushing her to settle down, and I can't stand by and watch her end up with someone else."

"Don't worry, I'll still take care of you and the baby."

I had no fight left. I signed the papers without a word.

The boy who once pulled me out of the darkness was now a stranger. The road ahead stretched out empty and cold, and I'd have to walk it alone.

...

Leaving the courthouse, the divorce papers felt like a brick in my hand. Lawson seemed pleased by how easily I'd caved, reaching over to ruffle my hair like I was some kid.

"You're almost too obedient, you know that? Like a glass of plain water—bland, boring, no kick."

"But Lexi? She's a firecracker. Yesterday we had a little spat, and she clawed and scratched at me—still got the marks."

"But that's part of the fun, isn't it?"

I watched him trace those marks with a smirk, and the mental image of them together slammed into me. My stomach lurched. I braced myself against a tree and retched again.

When the nausea finally passed, tears spilled over, like I'd just sobbed my heart out.

Lawson, in an uncharacteristic show of decency, handed me a tissue, dabbing at the mess on my face. "Don't be upset. I'm not abandoning you or the baby."

His touch was so gentle—like a loving husband. A doting father. Pain stabbed through my chest as I shoved his hand away. "Lawson, drop the act."

"From now on, we're strangers. We go our separate ways."

He paused, then let out a dark chuckle. "Jazmine, in this relationship, you don't get to call the shots."

"When you were sixteen, your parents sold you for a lousy seventy bucks to some old creep. Who was it that saved you when you were at death's door?"

It was him.

Ten years ago, my parents tricked me into leaving school, tied me up, and tossed me onto some old man's bed. The money they got? Spent on a bicycle for my brother.

I fought so hard I bruised myself black and blue, staining the sheets with blood. Terrified, the old man didn't dare touch me again. But as my life slipped away, the blood loss became all too real.

Just when I thought that was it, Lawson burst in with my teacher. His hands were shaking as he scooped me up and rushed me to the hospital.

The doctor said if I'd arrived a few minutes later, I would've been gone.

From that day on, I never went back home. Whenever my parents tried to cause trouble, Lawson chased them off.

After high school, we both got into the same university far from home, cutting every tie with the past.

We shared a cramped apartment, split a can of soup that was nearly past its expiration date, and huddled together for warmth on a tiny bed in the dead of winter.

When he made his first big break, he got down on one knee with a ring: "Jazmine, marry me. I'll never let you suffer again. We'll be happy, grow old together, and never part!"

I clung to that promise, believing the darkness was gone for good.

But in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

The moment I found out I was pregnant, I rushed to Lawson's office, bursting with the news—only to find Lexi, wearing nothing but a man's shirt, draped all over Lawson.

In that instant, I was thrown into a blazing fire, every bit of my happiness reduced to ash. Caught off guard, Lawson frowned, shielding Lexi protectively as he barked, "Get out."

Three months passed, each day gnawing at my heart. I could feel myself coming apart at the seams.

I couldn't deny it—he had given me my life back, become my one and only light. But he had changed too, throwing away ten years for a woman he'd known only a few months.

As I wrestled with that painful truth, Lawson offered me a twisted kind of mercy:

"Jazmine, I don't expect you to repay me for saving your life in some grand way. Just stick around, have my kids, and do what I say."

"Don't worry, this little thrill is temporary. Once it burns out, we'll get married again."

My gaze hit the floor, my spirit sinking. "Is there no other way?"

"Well, there is."

He let out a cruel sneer. "Give up your life for me once, and we'll call it even. You dare?"

I said nothing.

My phone rang—a distinct ringtone that told me exactly who was calling.

Lawson's patience snapped, and he added hastily, "From now on, this is Lexi's home. Pack your things and move back to our old place."

A damp, crumbling apartment with mold creeping up the walls and a leaky roof that seemed like it might cave in any second.

With those words, he walked off without a backward glance.

The cold wind numbed me as I stood there, feeling once again like the light in my life was dying out.

After what felt like an eternity, I dialed a number.