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After my husband brought back a pregnant woman, I left. Novel Cover

After my husband brought back a pregnant woman, I left.

Out of pity, pregnant Wren allows her husband Erick to house Tara, his late comrade's pregnant widow. But the temporary arrangement becomes permanent. The ultimate betrayal strikes when Erick abandons their sick son on a busy highway to rush to Tara's side for a minor stomach cramp. Left alone, the young boy is killed by oncoming traffic. Finding a smug social media post of the two together while holding her child's lifeless body, a devastated Wren calls her husband to demand answers.
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Chapter 4

Tara’s eyes grew misty.

“Wren is such a kind person. She’ll definitely give us her blessing. I’ll truly be grateful to her.”

Someone beside them chimed in immediately:

“Sister-in-law’s love for Erick is something no one can compare to! Back then, to help Erick secure that project, she even dared to handle those old men at the banquet table—drinking, singing, entertaining them without so much as a frown.”

“And don’t forget the time Erick had that severe gastroenteritis and was rushed in for emergency surgery. She thought he was dying. She knelt outside the operating room and refused to leave, crying until her voice was completely gone. We all saw how deeply she cared.”

“With someone who loves Erick that much, how could she ever leave? This little thing? It’s nothing to her.”

Hearing this, Erick fell silent for a moment before pulling Tara closer, holding her protectively in his arms.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you and the child have a home.”

In that instant, standing at the doorway, it felt as though the entire world went silent.

I finally understood—

those who love the deepest are the ones most easily turned into a joke.

Watching him hold another woman in his arms, my fingers curled tightly at my sides.

How thoughtful he was.

He had already planned to give Tara a home.

Since he wanted to give—

how could I not grant it?

I was about to head to the cemetery to sit with my child, when the cemetery administrator suddenly called.

His voice was frantic, almost cracking.

“Ms. Wren! Someone is tampering with your child’s grave!”

For a second, it felt like lightning struck straight through my body.

My blood roared in my ears, and my heart slammed violently against my ribs.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t breathe.

I simply turned and ran—ran like I was tearing myself apart.

My child loved sunlight, loved daisies.

She once said that when she grew up, she wanted to plant an entire backyard of white flowers.

She never got the chance.

So I did it for her.

I didn’t put up a tombstone.

I used a sea of white daisies to build her little world—

the gentlest home I could give her.

But when I reached the depths of the cemetery, the sight before me nearly took my breath away.

Erick stood there.

Tara was nestled safely in his arms.

Two bodyguards were swinging shovels, ripping up my daisies—throwing them aside like trash.

My child’s urn sat carelessly on the muddy ground, stained with dirt.

My world collapsed.

“What are you doing!”

My scream tore out of me like something ripping open from the inside.

I rushed forward, shoving the bodyguards away, half-feral with panic.

Tara shrank deeper into Erick’s arms, her voice trembling pitifully.

“I heard someone say your child wasn’t really buried here… I didn’t believe it, so I told them to check if there were ashes inside. Without a tombstone, how was I supposed to know? Why are you yelling like that… you’re scaring me…”

Her delicate, trembling act—

yet her methods were more vicious than anyone’s.

I didn’t waste breath arguing with her.

I snatched a shovel and began digging wildly, ripping open the soil they had just filled.

This was my child’s place—

her only resting place.

No one could touch it.

No one could take it.

“Wren, have you lost your mind? Stop!”

Erick roared, seizing the shovel from my hands.

I lifted my face to look at him, my eyes frozen with hatred.

“Erick… calling you a monster is too much of a compliment.”

Then I fell to my knees and used my hands to dig.

Soil mixed with daisy stems wedged between my fingers—

and none of it hurt.

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