After Knowing I Was Infertile, My Husband Dumped Me

Denver's voice was low and quiet—he paused for a few seconds, seemingly surprised that everything had gone so smoothly.

When he finally spoke, there was a trace of excitement in his voice.

“I really look forward to you coming here. I’ll take care of everything on my end—don’t worry.”

After hanging up, I ordered some takeout for myself.

Half an hour later, just as the delivery arrived, Winston returned to the villa with his parents.

He walked in, saw the untouched dishes on the table, and me unpacking the takeout instead. Without even removing his coat, he stormed over.

“Bianca, what are you doing? I spent three hours making these dishes and you didn’t even take a bite! What is this supposed to mean?”

I glanced at him, my voice as cold as ice. “I don’t like lotus seed and white fungus soup. That’s Kiara’s favorite.”

Winston was momentarily speechless, his face stiffening.

Kiara put on a pitiful expression and looked at me.

“Sis, don’t blame Winston. I told him you liked the same soup as I do. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

His mother, sitting nearby, couldn’t hold her tongue. She gently comforted Kiara while throwing me a sharp glare.

“Look at that—your sister is more understanding than you. I really don’t know what my son ever saw in you. So what if you can run a company? A woman acting like a man in business—how unbecoming. You’d be better off having a child and focusing on being a good wife and mother. That’s what truly matters.”

I’d heard those words so many times over the past five years, I could recite them backward. For Winston’s sake, I endured it all.

But looking back now, I realize—I owed myself an apology.

“Save your advice for yourself, Mother-in-law. I’m not like you—good for nothing besides popping out babies.”

No sooner had I finished speaking than Winston slammed the table, sending dishes crashing to the floor.

Shards of ceramic flew up and sliced across the top of my foot.

I didn’t feel the pain at first—only when blood began to bead on my skin did a dull ache set in.

“Bianca, are you insane? These are my parents! Yours too! Is that a way to speak to your elders?”

I gritted my teeth against the pain, letting out a cold laugh.

“Do they act like elders? Since they dislike me so much, why not give them what they want? Let’s make this fake divorce official.”

Winston’s expression changed instantly. His anger vanished, replaced by uncertainty.

He stepped forward and crouched down in front of me, as if trying to say something, but then caught sight of the blood on my foot.

His face twisted with panic and frustration.

“You’re hurt? Why didn’t you say something?!”

I said nothing.

If he truly cared—if he ever had—he would’ve noticed the moment I walked in.

He wouldn’t have ignored the diagnosis report I brought home.

Winston cursed under his breath and rushed into the bedroom to get the first aid kit.

When he came back out, he was holding something else too—the infertility diagnosis I had casually left on the nightstand.

Without saying a word, he knelt to clean the wound and bandage my foot.

Then he finally spoke.

“What’s this?”

Kiara walked over, took the paper from his hand, and glanced at it.

“Infertility? Sis... you’ve been diagnosed with infertility?”

No sooner had she spoken than his parents rushed over like the sky had collapsed, grabbing the report with trembling hands.

“What’s going on? Infertile? How? You just lost one baby—how can you not get pregnant again?”

“Sis, the report says your uterine lining is too thin. Have you had abortions before? Most infertility cases come from repeated abortions. The uterus gets too damaged to carry a child. Don’t tell me... is that why you lost this baby?”

Winston’s brows furrowed. His gaze bore into me, voice trembling.

“Bianca... is this true?”

“It says it right there. I’ve been diagnosed as infertile. I can’t have children,” I replied indifferently.

Immediately, his expression darkened, and he clenched the report tightly in his hands. “How many times were you pregnant before we got married?”

“I really didn’t expect it,” his mother snapped. “You look so sweet and innocent, but you’re just a slut! You ruined my son! Who knows what shady business you’ve done to build that company?”

She swayed on her feet and collapsed into a chair, pointing at me in rage.

Kiara supported her, looking equally “shocked.”

“Sis... you shouldn’t have kept this from Winston before marriage. Now the baby is gone, and you’re infertile. You know how much he loves children.”

“Enough!” Winston shouted. The room fell silent.

He lowered himself again and stared into my eyes, gripping the wheelchair handles so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Bianca, tell me the truth. Is what Kiara said true? Have you had abortions before?”

His question brought back the memory of that night—a month ago, when I underwent a curettage procedure after the accident, clinging to life in a sterile hospital room.

And he? He was here, making love to my sister in this very house.

“I have. The day I lost our baby, you and Kiara were right here... flirting and laughing.”

Winston’s face crumbled. His voice was hoarse.

“I meant before the marriage. Were you pregnant before? Don’t lie to me, Bianca.”

I let out a sharp breath through my nose and stared at his panicked face. A twisted sense of satisfaction bloomed in my chest.

“Would you even believe me if I told you? Think whatever you want.”

His mother clutched her chest like she was about to pass out.

“You shameless woman! My son gave up studying abroad for you! You’re even five years older than him! You’ve ruined his life!”

“So what? He made that choice.” I shrugged.

Smack!

Winston slapped me hard across the face. My ears rang. For a moment, everything went silent.

“How is my son supposed to believe you?! The infertility is right here in black and white, yet you still act like a victim. What has my son done to deserve this? You want to leave our family childless? This marriage must end!”

His mother wailed, pounding her leg with her fists, nearly fainting with rage.

I turned to Winston, blood trickling from the corner of my mouth.

“Winston... you’ve truly disappointed me.”

With despair clouding my face, I turned away and returned to the bedroom in silence, too drained to offer any more explanations.