Betrayed by My Husband, Loved by My First Fiancé

Looking again, Michael had already wrapped his arms around Regina and was trying to calm her down.

"Don’t get an abortion. You know my condition. Your child might be my last chance to be a father."

As he spoke, he pulled a black card from his pocket and handed it to Regina.

"There’s 50 million on this card. Buy yourself a new bag. Please don’t get upset. It’s not good for the baby."

Regina gave a cold smile and threw the black card at my face.

"I don’t care about the charity of rich people like you. I’ve said it before, we are only partners for having a child. Don’t try to shame me by offering money. I have dignity."

The edge of the card scratched my cheek. Blood dripped onto the blanket. Only then did Michael seem to realize I was in the room. He frowned.

"Elizabeth, you’ve seen it yourself. Regina and I are only partners. She doesn’t want my money or my body."

"So stop being so petty. Once her child is born, you can be its mother. Isn’t that the same as having your own child?"

I tried my best to hold back, but tears still fell from my eyes. My nails dug into my palms, but even that pain felt distant. I could see the hidden pride in Regina’s eyes and Michael’s growing impatience.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, I interrupted him.

"Alright. You can have as many children as you want. I don’t care."

I had already decided to divorce Michael.

He let out a long breath and hugged Regina tighter.

"See? I told you Elizabeth is a kind person. Can you go for the prenatal checkup now?"

Regina pouted and pushed him away.

"We’re just partners. You don’t have to be so close to me."

"I’ll go by myself. You stay here with your wife."

She turned and left the room. Michael quickly followed, carefully guarding Regina’s belly, without even glancing back at me. I suddenly felt exhausted

I had left home ten years ago, met Michael ten years ago and married him eight years ago. I always knew he wanted children. However, I also knew he had azoospermia. So, when I got pregnant for the first time, I cried with joy the entire night.

I walked carefully, hoping he would go with me to the hospital. But he always said he was busy and had to travel. Still, I could never forget his cold expression.

"Elizabeth, pregnancy is survival of the fittest. If you miscarried that easily, it’s better not to have it."

At that moment, I truly believed what he said. From then on, I went to my checkups alone and took the medicine to protect the pregnancy by myself. So, I endured the nausea and quietly got out of bed at night to massage my swollen legs.

The care I had imagined receiving from him had all been given to someone else.

A few hours later, Michael sent me a rare message on WhatsApp.

[Elizabeth, you should get more rest these next few days after the miscarriage. I’ve arranged for someone to bring nutritious meals. Don’t forget to eat.]

I didn’t reply. Just like he had ignored my many messages before. The last one I sent asked what time he would come home. He never answered.

Now that I think about it, he was probably with Regina at the time. After that, I didn’t see him for several days. I only heard updates from the nurses.

Like how Regina got upset and refused to eat the nutritious meals, so Michael immediately replaced them without hesitation. Or how she gave the food she didn’t eat to the servants. One nurse said she saw Michael late at night massaging Regina’s feet himself.

I looked at the meal that had just been sent to me and lost all appetite. No wonder it was full of things I hated. They hadn’t even thought of giving it to me.

After all, it was just something Regina no longer wanted.