After Eight Years, He Walked Away Like I Was Nothing

But when he saw the indifference on my face, Grant immediately frowned.

“Samantha is still young. Don’t argue with her. Once she’s feeling better, I’ll send her back.”

I simply nodded. “Alright.”

Then I quietly turned around and started preparing breakfast.

Watching my solitary figure at the stove, his tone softened a little.

“Didn’t you always say you missed the boat porridge I used to make? Let me cook it today.”

He busied himself in the kitchen, but instead of feeling touched, I felt hollow.

We had been together for years, yet he had never cooked a single meal for me.

Now, with Samantha back in his life, she was the one enjoying his care and home-cooked dishes every day.

Just as I was about to speak, Samantha came running out of the bedroom, barefoot and giggling.

She clung to Grant’s arm, whining like a child.

“Grant, I want the crab and shrimp dumplings from that old place in Westfield!”

That restaurant was famous—it took an hour to get there, not counting the long lines.

I’d once told him I wanted to try it. He snapped,

“No! Too far and too much hassle!”

But now, he just chuckled, affectionately tapping Samantha’s nose.

“Okay, okay, I’ll spoil my little foodie.”

Without another word, he took her out, once again forgetting all about me.

I finished cooking alone, as usual.

Calmly, I picked up my phone and canceled our wedding photoshoot appointment.

Just after I hung up, a sharp pain tore through my lower abdomen.

I collapsed to the floor, curled up in agony, and instinctively called Grant.

The phone rang endlessly before he finally answered, his voice laced with irritation.

“Lena, enough already! Can’t you see Samantha’s still hungry? I don’t have time for this. If it’s important, text me!”

“Grant, I—”

Before I could finish, he hung up.

Everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I was already in the hospital. The ambulance had brought me in.

The doctor said I had miscarried and needed to rest properly from now on.

That night in the hospital, Grant called.

“Why haven’t you come home?”

I didn’t even hesitate. “I’m working overtime.”

He didn’t question it further. Instead, he just said,

“Samantha’s staying at our place these days. If you come home late, don’t disturb her rest.”

In the past, he never called me, no matter how late I worked.

Now, he was only worried I might disrupt Samantha’s peace.

He never called again that night.

I could guess he spent it with her.

The next morning, I was discharged from the hospital and went to pick up my medication.

At the entrance, I saw Grant supporting Samantha, who looked frail and pitiful, both hands pressed to her abdomen as she leaned weakly against him.

Grant noticed me and immediately frowned. He stepped forward.

“Lena? Are you here to see a doctor too?”

There was a hint of displeasure in his tone, as if he suspected I had followed them.

I looked at him calmly. “Yes. My period’s been painful, so I came to see the doctor.”

His expression stiffened—probably recalling how he had thrown me out of the car two days ago.

Seizing the moment, Samantha collapsed further into his arms, her voice sweetly laced with sarcasm.

“Lena came to the hospital by herself? Then I guess it’s not that serious.”

She turned to him with tearful eyes.

“Grant, I’m so useless, aren’t I? When I’m in pain, I can’t even walk… You always have to carry me.”

His face softened instantly.

“If you’re in pain, just tell me. I’ll stay with you the whole time, alright?”

He gently helped her as they walked ahead together.

Then, as an afterthought, he turned and looked at me.

“Come with us. I’ll give you a ride home,” he said, as though offering charity.