After My First Love Died I Became A Mortician

"Have you seen the comments online? Just because you married a distinguished man, it doesn’t mean you become a lady."

"Aren't you ashamed doing this kind of thing? Especially since you are a woman?"

Carol's face twisted into a malicious grin. It was far from the national goddess image she portrayed to the public.

"Did you know? It was Jeremy himself who leaked the news of your marriage." Carol then added, "He did it to protect me."

To protect her, Jeremy was willing to do anything, even at the expense of the woman who had been his wife for three years.

I smiled coldly, "After all this year, you're still a mistress. Well, congratulations.

Her face turned stormy and she made a toward me but I blocked her advances easily and swatted her hand away.

Carol's face changed drastically, "Who do you think you are? How dare you against me."

She grabbed a wine glass from the table and tried to smash it at me. Even though I managed to snatch the glass away because of my quick move, I still got cut by the ring on her finger during the tug.

I stared at the blood dripping from the cut, then at the ring on her finger. Then I realized that it was my ring.

Before I left Jeremy's house, I had taken off the ring and left it on the shoe rack by the door. I had never expected that it would sit on her hand.

She noticed my silence and smirked. "Why are you so quiet? This was mine all along. You’re just a thief returning what never belonged to you."

I couldn’t help but laugh. "You take the man I discarded and things …. Carol, are you a trash can?"

Her face turned bright red. She raised her hand and slapped me hard. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as pain flared across my cheek.

Before I could retaliate, a hand gripped my wrist, it was hot and unyielding. "Amy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Jeremy shoved me aside so hard that he sent me stumbling. I barely caught myself before my abdomen hit the corner of the table. My hand instinctively moved to protect the baby.

I steadied myself and retreated to protect my child while looking coldly at Carol who threw herself into Jeremy's arm tears streaming down her face as she sobbed, "Jeremy, don't blame her. She hit me because she loves you too much. She didn’t mean it."

Jeremy glared at me. However, when his eyes flicked to my bloodied lips, he hesitated a while before he turned back to her to comfort her.

Once, there was a man who treated me as if I were his whole world. However, that was a long time ago.

I forced myself to remain calm as I gave them my final warning, "She’s wearing my ring."

Before Jeremy could respond, Carol pouted. "Jeremy, can’t I wear it? It’s my favorite design. I told you that before."

Jeremy looked at me again, with a cold gaze, when he saw that I showed no vulnerability, his expression hardened.

"Throw it away," he said casually. "That ring is outdated. It doesn’t suit you anymore."

He pulled Carol closer, coaxed and promised her to give her a newer, more extravagant ring. Carol smiled triumphantly and turned to him. "Throw it out the window," she urged.

For a moment, Jeremy hesitated, his eyes lingered on me. Then, under her insistent gaze, he tossed the ring aside.

I didn’t see where the silver ring landed. It didn’t matter anymore. With that single motion, our story ended.

"Fine," I said, my voice steady. "The divorce papers will come soon. My lawyer will contact you."

I didn’t make it to the hospital to terminate the pregnancy because Jeremy knew about my pregnancy. He showed up at my door. His hand was holding the shredded remains of my medical report. His expression was a mixture of disbelief and excitement.

"Amy! We’re having a baby!" he said happily.

I stared at him in a bafflement by the man standing before me, as though seeing a stranger.

Realization dawned on him and his smile faltered. He shifted nervously and his voice dropped. "You know how much my family wants a child."

His words were like a slap. For a fleeting moment, I almost believed we were a loving couple again.

Jeremy’s mother had always been insistent, her demands for grandchildren constant and unrelenting. Whenever I saw her, she would look down her nose at me and remind me to "hurry up and produce an heir."