Dumped! Because His Ex is Back

Novalie POV

“Do you know where your husband is? Of course, you wouldn't. He is laying in bed, eating me out.” Amelia, my stepsister said over the phone with a little giggle before ending the call.

I was shaking so hard on the sick bay with my teeth knocked together, even though the blanket my best friend, Kira, tucked around me was thick and warm.

My fingers curled weakly against the bedsheet, my knuckles turning white with my nails digging in as if holding myself to something would stop the cramping tearing through my body.

I had just lost the tiny soul in me. My five month old baby was gone.

Staring up at the fluorescent lights above the hospital room, I couldn't help but wish the world to pause with me. To sympathize with me and at least, favour me with a child!

But did something ever come my way?.

Kira sat at my side, her eyes redshot from crying and her hand never leaving mine. “Just breathe, Nova. I'm right here. Don't even dare to think about Amelia. She has lost her mind.”

Kira Tucker, the famous model in New York, has been my best friend since the night I collapsed at a gala party, while my husband, Noah Ashford, was having a heart to heart conversation with another woman over the phone.

Amelia, my stepsister.

And since then, we became best of friends. A friend I never thought I would have.

And even though she didn't put me in this position, she still came through for me and discarded her modelling work today.

I closed my eyes, trying to hide the pain of what Amelia had said and a long ping sounded from my phone.

I raised my hand to get through to my phone but she quickly hijacked it, scrolling through the message and I felt her grip tighten.

Definitely meant she saw something about Amelia and my husband, Noah.

“Just show me,” I whispered, stretching forth my hand even though I knew I would be a wreck of emotions very soon, but she shook her head.

“It's disgusting, okay. It's not worth it.” She tried to convince me and I shook my head.

“No, Kira. Just let me have it.”

She hesitated first, before turning the screen toward me.

And there was my husband and my stepsister.

The man I had married with love. The man I called almost fifty times because I was dying and bleeding, but didn't pick. Noah's arm was wrapped around Amelia's waist in the street of ‘Paris’ the same one I planned for us to go to on our anniversary and he had declined with the ‘I don't fancy Paris. They don't regard people.’ but he was there now. With my own stepsister, his ex lover.

And he was smiling. Smiling at her in a way that spoke volumes of love and affection. Something he had never genuinely done for me.

I stared at the picture while another wave of pain ripped through me and this one was somehow deeper than the last.

Paris.

He was in Paris and I was here…losing our baby.

Gnashing in pain

My free hand drifted to my stomach out of instinct, but the nurse words course through. “We are sorry. We couldn't save the baby.”

They couldn't save the baby I had done everything to save. They couldn't save the baby I had planned my life out with.

And Noah? The man I had loved when he needed it the most. The one who swore to never make my cry or feel unloved, didn't answer any of my messages.

But he texted Amelia back within two minutes. I knew because the screenshot she sent included a tiny preview of the next picture: Amelia's pouty selfie, Noah commenting with a heart.

He flew to Paris just when he heard of her return.

What was I even expecting?

Ever since Amelia showed her face again in the tabloids, things changed. Even my step mother, who had specifically told me to take in Noah, help him recover from Amelia's pain in his heart, was now threatening me to give everything up for Amelia because she was his to begin with.

My body felt suddenly too heavy and Kira stood abruptly, fury flashing over her face as if noticing my mood. “I swear, I'm going to fly to Paris myself and break his…”

I forced out a small smile. “Don't, Kira.” The words came out as a whisper. “You have done enough already.”

Of course, she has done enough. She had abandoned her show just to be here with me. What more can I ask for?

“I can't believe Amelia's mother stood there, watching her daughter find her way into Noah's hands when she was obviously the one who ditched him.” Kira spat out angrily.

The doctor returned with a clipboard tucked under his arm. “Mrs. Winter's, we’ll run more tests, but you should rest. Stress and overexertion could be factors, though miscarriages can happen for many reasons.”

When he left, I tried to breathe with the pain spreading through my chest, but it felt like the worst idea.

“You need to sleep,” Kira urged as she brushed gentle fingers over my hair. “I’ll be right here. You’re not alone.”

Noah had already been slipping away for months. No… years.

Two years when Amelia suddenly showed up.

And he didn’t slip away randomly. There was always one gravitational pull strong enough to drag him from anyone and anything:

Amelia Winters.

My step sister and his so-called first love who ditched him!

The golden child of Hollywood, America’s sweetheart, and Noah’s not-so-secret obsession.

The moment she stepped foot in the media, everything reset. He turned his world upside down. He started to keep a drawer full of her magazine covers, as if they were private treasures. And then he looked out for the letters she wrote him from childhood summers they spent together. Old scrolls she gave him to read. Every fucking thing he had kept away when he wanted to propose to me.

I remember the sick feeling I had the first time I saw the drawer.

He never hid it and it was almost worse that he didn't.

Anytime I complain about this, he would discard my words and say he was only trying to get things.

And I…the naive one, hopeful, maybe stupid, believed him when he said it didn’t mean anything. She was his past. I was his future.

But Noah had a way of choosing her every time it mattered.

When she cried about a failed audition, he would leave the house at midnight just to drive to her apartment.

When she wanted company, he canceled our plans without guilt even on our fucking anniversary!

When my endometriosis acted up and I begged him to stay, he kissed my forehead, said “You’re strong, baby,” and left anyway because Amelia “really needed a friend tonight.”

I used to imagine that his obsession would fade, that one day he’d realize I was enough.

But tonight proved something more painful:

I had never been his first choice. I had just been the one who loved him more than she did.

“Let me get you water.” Kira said, planting a kiss on my forehead before turning the television on and walking off.

At first, I didn't pay attention. My gaze drifted to the ceiling, tracing nonexistent patterns, trying to feel something other than the empty soul in my chest.

But then I heard her name.

“…child star Amelia Winters has officially returned to the country after spending the last eight months filming her latest project in France…”

My head jerked toward the screen.

The news anchor smiled too brightly as footage played, Amelia stepping out of a black car at the airport, sunglasses perched on her perfect nose, platinum blonde hair catching the flash of cameras. She waved, all effortless charm, all effortless beauty.

“…sources say Amelia plans to take a break from acting to reconnect with loved ones and focus on emotional healing after a challenging year and she would be announcing her new found lover.”

Emotional healing? Announcing her new found lover?

I let out a bitter laugh as my gaze dropped to the envelope on the tray beside my bed.

It was the pregnancy report.

Spontaneous miscarriage. Nonviable pregnancy.