I found out my husband was cheating while I was lying in a hospital bed, bleeding out our unborn daughter.

The doctor was talking, but his voice sounded far away, like he was standing underwater.

“We couldn’t save the baby.”

My fingers tightened around the blanket automatically.

My girl.

The words repeated in my head, numb and slow.

Outside the emergency room curtain, nurses pushed carts down the hallway. Someone was crying two rooms away. Machines beeped steadily beside me while pain crawled through my stomach in waves sharp enough to make me shake.

The accident replayed in flashes every time I closed my eyes.

The screaming brakes.

The steering wheel crushing into my abdomen.

Then darkness.

“You were already pregnant before the crash,” the doctor continued carefully. “The trauma caused severe internal bleeding.”

I stared at the ceiling without blinking.

Pregnant.

I hadn’t even known.

Not until after I lost her.

My throat hurt suddenly. “My husband…”

The doctor hesitated.

“We need a family member to sign the surgery consent form immediately.”

I grabbed my phone beside the bed with trembling fingers.

Ethan.

My husband.

My first call rang twice before being rejected.

The second went unanswered.

By the fifth call, my hands were shaking badly enough that I nearly dropped the phone.

By the ninth, the nurse beside me looked at me with pity.

By the thirteenth—

the line connected for half a second before abruptly ending again.

I stared at the screen.

No answer. Nothing.

What I didn’t know was that at the exact moment I was bleeding in a hospital bed, Ethan was in another woman’s bed.

I only learned that later.

At the time, I still believed maybe he was busy.

Maybe he hadn’t heard the phone.

Maybe—

“Miss?”

The nurse’s voice softened. “We really can’t wait any longer.”

I closed my eyes.

There was only one person left to call.

My mother.

We hadn’t spoken properly in years.

Not since I chose Ethan over her.

Not since I told her love mattered more than money, career, or pride.

Not since I accused her of abandoning our family for work after she divorced my father.

Back then, she gave my father most of her assets during the divorce and walked away cleanly. I thought she was cold. Ruthless.

I chose my father.

Then after he died, I inherited everything he left behind.

And I gave all of it to Ethan after we married.

Every cent.

I called her anyway.

The phone rang once.

“What happened?”

The moment I heard her voice, I started crying.

Not loudly.

Just silently.

Like something inside me finally cracked open.

Three hours later, my mother arrived at the hospital in a black coat, heels clicking sharply against the floor.

She looked exactly the same as I remembered.

Cold.

Elegant.

Her eyes landed on me lying in the bed, pale and covered in blood stains.

Then her jaw tightened.

“What did I tell you?” she said quietly.

I couldn’t answer.

“I warned you years ago.” Her voice became harsher. “A man who needs your money to build his future will destroy yours eventually.”

“Mom…”

“You chose him anyway.”

The doctor handed her the surgery papers carefully.

“There’s another complication,” he explained. “The damage from the accident and hemorrhaging is severe. Even after surgery… it’s very unlikely she’ll be able to conceive again.”

Silence.

I stopped breathing for a second.

My mother signed the papers without hesitation.

Then she looked at me.

“This,” she said coldly, “is the ending you chose for yourself.”

The surgery lasted four hours.

When I woke again, the emptiness inside my body felt unbearable.

Like someone had hollowed me out completely.

Not just the baby.

Everything.

Three days later, I was discharged.

The winter air outside the hospital was freezing against my skin as I walked slowly toward the entrance.

Then I saw Ethan.

Relief hit me instantly.

It disappeared just as fast.

Because standing beside him was a beautiful woman wearing his coat.

And beside them—

my son.

My eight-year-old son ran straight past me toward the woman.

“Auntie Lily!”

She smiled gently and rubbed his hair.

Ethan didn’t even try to hide it.

I looked at him numbly. “What is this?”

Ethan sighed like he was already tired of the conversation.

“You know exactly what this is.”

The woman lowered her head slightly. “I’m sorry…”

Sorry?

I nearly laughed.

“You were sleeping with her while I was in the hospital.”

Ethan’s expression didn’t change.

“So?”

The word hit harder than the accident.

“So?” My voice cracked. “Our daughter died.”

For the first time, something flickered in his eyes.

But it vanished quickly.

“You can’t keep acting dramatic forever.”

I stared at him.

Dramatic?

My son suddenly frowned at me.

“Mom, why are you yelling again?”

Like I was the problem.

Ethan adjusted his cuffs calmly. “Lily is pregnant.”

The world froze.

“She’ll be staying with us from now on.”

I looked between them slowly.

Then at my son standing beside her protectively.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You brought your mistress and her child to see me after I lost mine?”

Ethan’s voice turned colder. “You should learn to accept reality.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then divorce me and leave with nothing.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Nothing? Everything you own came from me.”

That finally annoyed him.

“You handed it over willingly,” he snapped. “You stay home every day spending my money while I work. What exactly are you dissatisfied with?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

My son suddenly spoke up.

“Auntie Lily is prettier than you anyway.”

The words were childish.

But they cut deepest.

“And she’s nicer,” he continued. “You only scold me all the time.”

Something inside me broke completely.

I looked at the woman smiling weakly behind Ethan and suddenly lunged toward her.

“You ruined my family—”

Before I could touch her, Ethan shoved me violently backward.

I had just left the hospital.

My stitches tore instantly as I hit the ground.

Pain exploded through my abdomen.

I gasped.

Ethan immediately turned toward Lily protectively. “Are you okay?”

My son rushed over too.

Then—

he kicked me.

Not hard.

But enough.

“You’re bad!” he shouted angrily. “Don’t hurt Auntie Lily!”

I stared up at my child from the freezing pavement.

The son I nearly died giving birth to.

The son who chose another woman over me.

Blood slowly stained my clothes again.

But Ethan only looked down at me coldly.

“You brought this on yourself.”

Then he turned away.

Taking his mistress.

Taking my son.

Leaving me alone outside the hospital like garbage.

Ethan sent me to the seaside cottage two days later.

“Fresh air will help you recover,” he said casually.

The place looked abandoned.

Cold wind leaked through cracked windows. The walls smelled damp. Half the furniture was broken, and the heating barely worked.

It wasn’t somewhere a recovering patient should stay.

It was somewhere people sent things they wanted hidden.

I sat on the edge of the bed holding my stomach while waves crashed violently outside.

Every movement still hurt.

The bleeding hadn’t fully stopped.

But Ethan hadn’t visited once since leaving me outside the hospital.

Three days later, the front door opened again.

I heard my son laughing before I saw him.

Then Ethan walked in beside Lily.

She wore a loose white sweater now, one hand resting gently over her stomach.

Pregnant.

The sight made me nauseous immediately.

Lily approached carefully like she was the victim here.

“Sister… I came to apologize.”

I laughed weakly.

“Sister?”

Her eyes instantly reddened.

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Ethan frowned at me immediately. “Can you stop acting hostile for once?”

My son suddenly ran toward Lily and hugged her waist.

“I want Auntie Lily to stay with me tonight.”

Ethan smiled faintly. “Then you’ll sleep with Auntie tonight.”

My chest tightened.

Not Mommy.

Lily rubbed his head gently while pretending to look embarrassed.

“I’m worried your wife will misunderstand…”

“She already misunderstands everything,” Ethan said coldly.

That night, I lay alone in the small bedroom listening to waves outside.

Around midnight, the door opened.

I sat up instantly.

Ethan walked inside calmly and locked the door behind him.

“What are you doing?”

“Lily’s pregnant,” he said simply. “It’s inconvenient.”

For a second, I didn’t understand.

Then disgust flooded through me.

“You can’t be serious.”

He loosened his tie slowly. “You’re still my wife.”

I moved backward immediately. “Get out.”

Ethan’s expression darkened.

“I wasn’t asking.”

My stitches still hurt. My body still hadn’t healed from surgery.

But none of that mattered to him.

I fought him desperately at first.

Then eventually stopped because the pain became unbearable.

Afterward, he fell asleep beside me like nothing happened.

I curled against the edge of the bed shaking silently.

Then I felt warmth spreading beneath me.

Too much warmth.

I reached down slowly.

Blood.

So much blood.

My breathing became uneven immediately.

“Ethan…”

No response.

He was sleeping.

I tried pushing him harder.

“Ethan…”

Darkness blurred my vision.

The next thing I remembered clearly was morning sunlight and Ethan suddenly sitting upright beside me.

“Fuck.”

There was blood everywhere.

The ambulance arrived twenty minutes later.

Back at the hospital, doctors rushed around me again while nurses pressed gauze against my abdomen.

One doctor looked furious.

“If you continue damaging your body like this,” he snapped, “nobody will be able to save you next time.”

Outside the room, I heard nurses whispering softly.

“She’s so pitiful…”

“Her husband did this?”

“Didn’t she just miscarry?”

I closed my eyes.

Humiliation felt endless now.

That afternoon, my mother arrived again.

She stood beside the hospital window silently for a long time before placing a document onto my bed.

“A severance agreement,” she said calmly.

I looked down slowly.

Mother-daughter relationship termination.

“If you continue staying beside that man,” she continued coldly, “then don’t call yourself my daughter anymore.”

Tears burned my eyes immediately.

“Mom…”

“I refuse to let my bloodline become this pathetic.”

Her words hurt.

Because part of me knew she was right.

I used to think enduring pain proved love.

Now I only looked stupid.

Broken.

My mother turned to leave.

Then suddenly I grabbed her wrist weakly.

For the first time in years, my pride disappeared completely.

“Mom,” I whispered hoarsely. “Help me.”

She stopped moving.

I looked up at her through tears.

“I want him to regret everything he did to me.”

My mother did not comfort me.

She never had.

While I sat in the hospital bed holding the blanket tightly against my stomach, she stood beside the window with her arms crossed, looking down at the city below us.

“You need evidence,” she said finally.

I looked up slowly.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Her voice stayed calm. “If you want Ethan to regret this, tears won’t do anything. You need proof.”

I stayed silent.

“Premarital pregnancy. Infidelity during marriage. Sexual assault during marriage.” Her eyes turned colder. “And that son of his.”

My chest tightened instantly.

“He hurt you too, didn’t he?”

Images flashed through my mind immediately.

My son kicking me outside the hospital.

His angry little face.

I lowered my eyes quickly.

“Maybe…” My throat felt dry. “Maybe he was just influenced by them.”

My mother stared at me sharply.

“Maybe he was taught badly.”

Still silence.

“Deep down,” I whispered weakly, “I think he still loves me.”

The room became unbearably quiet.

Then my mother laughed once.

Not kindly.

It was the kind of laugh people made when they heard something foolish.

I slowly stopped talking under her gaze.

“He’s eight years old,” she said coldly. “Not two.”

I clenched the blanket tighter.

“The law should remove age protections for violent children entirely,” she continued. “Maybe then people would stop pretending little monsters are innocent.”

“Mom…”

“You still think he hurt you during your miscarriage because he’s young?”

I couldn’t answer.

Because the truth was—

I remembered the expression on my son’s face clearly.

There had been anger there.

My mother walked toward the bed slowly.

“You spent years sacrificing everything for that family,” she said. “Your money. Your career. Your body. Your dignity.”

Her gaze dropped toward my abdomen briefly.

“And they still treated you like something disposable.”

My eyes started burning again.

“What should I do?” I asked quietly.

For the first time since entering the room, my mother’s expression softened slightly.

“You leave.”

I looked at her blankly.

“You remove yourself from that house and find out who you are without them.” She handed me a keycard from her purse. “Go stay at my vacation villa.”

“I…”

“Stop worrying about their problems,” she interrupted sharply. “Let them collapse without you for once.”

Three days later, I was sitting on the balcony of my mother’s seaside villa wrapped in a blanket when my phone rang.

Ethan.

I stared at the screen for several seconds before answering.

His irritated voice came immediately.

“Where are you?”

No greeting.

“I went to the hospital to pick you up,” he continued. “The doctor said you were discharged days ago.”

I almost laughed.

A husband picking up his wife after surgery.

Such a normal thing.

Yet hearing him say it still made something inside me ache stupidly.

“Why would you come pick me up?” I asked softly.

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Then I laughed at myself quietly.

Because even now, part of me had still hoped.

Still waited.

Still imagined he might suddenly become human again.

Ethan sounded annoyed by my tone immediately.

“The nanny’s cooking doesn’t suit my taste.”

I blinked slowly.

“And Lily keeps complaining she wants those pastries you used to make.”

I stayed silent.

“So come home tonight and make them.”

The sea wind outside suddenly felt colder.

I tightened the blanket around myself.

“I’m not your servant.”

“You’re my wife.”

“I used to do those things because—”

Because I loved you.

The words almost left my mouth automatically.

But Ethan interrupted before I could finish.

“I don’t want to hear your whining.” His voice turned impatient. “Just function like you’re supposed to. Cook. Take care of the house. Look after Lily.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“She’s uncomfortable because of the pregnancy,” he added coldly. “Stop being selfish for once.”

I laughed quietly.

Because suddenly the entire marriage sounded ridiculous.

I nearly died.

I lost our daughter.

I could never become pregnant again.

And this man’s biggest concern was dessert.

“When are you coming back?” he asked impatiently.

I stared at the ocean for several seconds before answering.

“Soon.”

Then I hung up.

A strange calm settled over me afterward.

Maybe my mother was right.

Maybe I had spent too long trapped inside that house trying to keep everyone happy.

Trying to be useful enough to deserve love.

I stood up slowly despite the pain still lingering through my body.

Then I went upstairs and opened my closet.

Most of my clothes at the villa were simple recovery outfits my mother had prepared for me.

Not my real things.

Not the jewelry my father left me.

Not the designer bags I bought before marriage.

Not the dresses I once loved.

All of those were still inside Ethan’s house.

Inside my house.

The thought of Lily touching them made disgust rise violently in my stomach.

Wearing my clothes.

Using my skincare.

Sleeping in my bedroom.

I suddenly couldn’t breathe properly.

No.

I wasn’t leaving my entire life behind for them to steal.

An hour later, I was in the car heading back.

One of my mother’s security drivers opened the back door for me.

“I can accompany you inside, Miss Harper.”

I shook my head instinctively.

“It’s fine.”

The driver hesitated. “Your mother instructed us not to leave you alone.”

“I’ll only pack my things.”

And stupidly—

I still believed Ethan had some remaining humanity left.

Enough not to hurt me again.

By the time I arrived, the house lights were glowing warmly against the evening sky.

It used to feel like home.

Now it looked unfamiliar.

The moment I walked inside, I heard laughter from the dining room.

Lily sat beside Ethan wearing one of my cashmere cardigans.

My son was feeding her strawberries while giggling.

The scene looked painfully domestic.

Like I was the outsider.

Lily noticed me first.

Her smile froze slightly.

“Aurora… you’re back.”

My eyes stayed fixed on the cardigan.

Mine.

She followed my gaze immediately and looked embarrassed.

“Oh… Ethan said I could borrow this because I was cold.”

Ethan didn’t even look guilty.

“It’s just clothes.”

Something dark twisted inside me.

I walked past them without answering and headed upstairs.

The bedroom door opened slowly.

Then I stopped moving completely.

Lily’s cosmetics covered my vanity table.

Several of my dresses were missing from the closet.

And framed beside the bed—

was a new ultrasound picture.

Their baby.

Displayed where mine should have been.

For several seconds, I simply stood there staring.

Then my hands started shaking uncontrollably.

Behind me, Ethan finally entered the room.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I turned toward him slowly.

“This is my room.”

“You haven’t lived here recently.”

“I was hospitalized.”

“You’re being dramatic again.”

My vision blurred instantly with rage.

I grabbed the ultrasound frame from the bedside table and threw it across the room.

Glass shattered violently.

Lily screamed downstairs.

Ethan’s face darkened immediately.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” I laughed hysterically. “You put her child’s ultrasound in my room after our daughter died!”

Ethan stepped forward sharply.

“You’re insane.”

“No,” I whispered. “I was insane when I loved you.”

For the first time, he looked genuinely angry.

Then his eyes moved toward the open closet behind me.

“You came back for your things?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me for several seconds.

Then suddenly smiled coldly.

“Fine.”

Something about that smile made my stomach tighten.

“You can take them,” he said softly. “If you’re still able to leave afterward.”