After His Mistress Caused My Miscarriage I Divorced Him

The phone rang yet again.

It wasn't until I shut it off that tranquility returned.

I couldn't comprehend how Legacy and I, once so connected, had reached this point.

Legacy had admitted, early in our relationship, to having a past love—the type often referred to as "the one who got away."

To ease my worries, he promised I would be his sole love from then on, the only one he cherished. He vowed that he’d be my family.

Having been raised without parents, the notion of someone being my family was deeply alluring.

We did enjoy some genuinely happy times together.

But everything unraveled when Arabella came back from overseas.

I should have known better than to count on Legacy to fully commit to me.

Determined not to prolong the agony, I contacted an old friend to help me draft a separation agreement.

It was only upon receiving the agreement that I felt some relief.

I drifted into sleep close to dawn.

Just as I sank into a deep slumber, someone roughly shook me awake.

As I opened my eyes, Arabella’s overly sweet smile greeted me as she chirped, “Estrella, you’re awake! Legacy and I are here to see you. We brought your favorite spiced honey cake. Come on, have a bite.”

She shook my bed carelessly and awkwardly tried to help me sit up.

While doing this, she tugged at my wounds, causing me to gasp in pain. I instinctively pushed her away.

Arabella fell backward.

Legacy caught her quickly, his voice full of urgency, "Are you alright, Arabella?"

Arabella started sobbing theatrically, weakly pushing him away while insisting, "I’m fine, Legacy. Let go, or Estrella might get upset again."

I watched her dramatic performance with a cool detachment.

I anticipated Legacy's anger towards me.

Sure enough, after calming her, he approached and struck the area near my wound.

The pain rendered me speechless.

Legacy seemed satisfied, saying, "Estrella Ruiz, you had this coming."

I locked eyes with him, my face pale.

Legacy’s expression was indifferent, while Arabella gave me a triumphant smile.

The wound on my abdomen reopened, soaking the gauze with blood.

Legacy glanced at it and frowned, "Arabella, you’re squeamish at the sight of blood. Don’t look; it’s gross."

Then, he sheltered her and walked away, leaving me there.