Does this Fake Divorce Really have to End in Miscarriage

Our home was very close to the maternal and child health hospital in the suburbs, less than two kilometers away. A simple U-turn at the intersection ahead and a straight drive would get us there.

Just as the car started, Lucas’s phone rang.

At such a late hour, there’s no need to guess—it must be Evelyn, that two-faced manipulator.

When Lucas picked up the call, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his excitement barely hidden. On the other end, Evelyn’s sweet, flirtatious voice came through, coaxing him to keep her company because the rain and thunder were scaring her.

“Jane, I’m going to pull over and drop you off here,” Lucas said suddenly.

“It’s less than a kilometer ahead. Evelyn’s in a bind and there’s no one else to help her—just her and her kid. I really need to go.”

For such a short distance, less than five minutes away, Lucas couldn’t even be bothered to drop me off properly.

I could hear the eagerness in his voice—he was clearly in a hurry to get to Evelyn.

I stared at Lucas coldly and said, “I can’t walk. You know my foot is injured.”

Lucas’s expression immediately darkened. He yelled at me, “Jane, stop being so dramatic!

“It’s just a burn, just a bit of skin peeled off. It’s not like you lost a leg—why can’t you walk?

“I already told you Evelyn has an emergency and here you are throwing a tantrum!”

Without waiting for me to respond, Lucas got out of the car, opened my door and forcibly dragged me out.

Before leaving, he added that he’d come back to pick me up after dealing with Evelyn.

The car sped past me and the water splashed up from the wheels, soaking my injured foot, sending a sharp, piercing pain through the wound.

Rain mixed with my tears as it streamed down my face. I limped forward, walking on tiptoe as I made my way toward the hospital.

I hadn’t gone far when a sudden, searing pain gripped my lower abdomen. Blood began to slide down my thigh and my body felt as if it were being torn apart.

My vision went dark and I collapsed by the side of the road.

Several cars sped past and if it hadn’t been for a kind-hearted woman who stopped and took me to the hospital, I might have been hit by one of them.

After an emergency surgery at the hospital, I dragged my exhausted body back home early the next morning.

As soon as I stepped through the door, Lucas’s furious shout hit me like a physical blow, his voice so loud it felt like it was vibrating through my bones.

“Jane, what the hell is going on? Didn’t I tell you to wait for me to pick you up?”

“I waited for you at the hospital all night! You didn’t answer your phone and then you turned it off!”

I froze in place, completely stunned, unable to move.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto mine and for a moment, it almost seemed like he really had been waiting for me all night.

When I looked out the hospital window, all I saw was a taxi from the night shift; Lucas’s car was nowhere to be found.

My phone had just died, so it had shut off on its own, not long before I got back.

In other words, Lucas was standing there, acting like he cared, when he hadn’t even bothered to come pick me up.

He used to be so attentive, always looking out for me, but somewhere along the way, he’d slowly pulled away.

I looked at him, a mix of sadness and resentment in my eyes. “It’s because you blocked me. I couldn’t even call you.”

Lucas’s anger softened immediately, a brief flash of guilt crossing his face before he quickly masked it.

“Forget it. Let’s not get into this.”

“I was worried you’d be hungry, so I made you some chicken soup. Drink it while it’s hot.”

I stared at the bowl in front of me. If I didn’t look closely, I might’ve mistaken it for just a simple bowl of soup, but it was supposed to be homemade chicken soup with vegetables.

There were only a couple of small pieces of chicken and a few limp vegetables and it looked like it had been thrown together in a hurry—more like a half-finished meal than anything made with care.

While I was bored and scrolling through my phone during my IV drip at the hospital, I saw a post from Evelyn. It was a picture of her and Lucas watching the sunrise together.

No wonder his eyes were so bloodshot—he’d been up all night with *the mistress*.

I didn’t have to guess; this porridge was clearly leftovers from their breakfast. The thought made my stomach churn.

I put my spoon down. “Just throw it away, I’m not hungry.”

Lucas’s face instantly dropped, his eyes locking onto mine with a mix of confusion and frustration. “Jane, I don’t get it. What’s going on with you today?”

“I went out of my way to make you this soup and you’re just going to waste it without even trying?”

“I told you, this whole divorce thing is just a formality. We don’t have kids and you don’t need a school spot. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

His words struck me like a dagger. Our child had already been lost, erased by his cold, heartless detachment.