Evil Ex-husband, I Will Never Choose To Forgive!

My son had a severe fever. Yet my husband left us behind.

My son passed out, and his life was in danger.

But my husband chose to comfort his ex-girlfriend's daughter, who had fallen.

I found myself at the hospital, holding the lifeless bodies of both our children.

At that point, my husband was doting on someone else's child.

By the time he remembered us, they were already lying cold and still with our children beneath the earth.

He wept and begged for forgiveness at their graves, but I kicked him down the hill.

He didn't deserve to defile my children's resting place.

...

My two children should have been happily playing at my feet.

But now, they lay silently beneath the cold earth.

I stood at their graves in silence, tears streaming down my face.

Without their mother by their side, they must have been so cold and in so much pain.

They must have been scared.

"Don't worry," I whispered, "I will finish what I need to do and join you soon."

I held a knife in my hand.

And I prepared myself for another funeral.

The whole thing started a few days ago.

My son, Paul Welch, had a fever.

He had always been prone to febrile seizures.

Although it was just a fever, it could easily trigger a seizure.

The nanny had taken leave, so my husband, Mose Welch, was at home to care for us.

I was eight months pregnant with our second child and could barely manage on my own.

"Honey, we need to go to the hospital immediately. Paul is running a high fever. We can't delay any longer. He might have a seizure," I said.

He put down his work. "I'll get the car."

I struggled with my big belly and gave Paul some medicine.

Then I helped him to the garage.

But when we got there, neither the car nor my husband was anywhere to be seen.

I was about to call him when he called me first.

"Babe, just wait at home for a bit with Paul. Carol's daughter fell and cut her head. She's panicking, so I'm taking her to the hospital first."

Carol Todd?

My head buzzed.

Carol was Mose's ex-girlfriend. She had just gotten divorced a few months ago.

Her daughter was about the same age as our son, not even five years old.

"No way, our son has a high fever. He's had seizures before, and he needs to get to the hospital now," I urged.

Paul was limp, barely conscious, leaning against me.

"Paul's had fevers before. You know what to do.

"Carol can't handle this on her own," Mose argued.

Before I could say another word, he hung up.

He was in a real hurry to help her.

But I couldn't waste time arguing with him. Paul needed to get to the hospital.

The car was gone, and I was heavily pregnant, barely able to walk.

I supported Paul as best I could, trying to make it to the main road to catch a cab.

That was when Paul suddenly started seizing.

I saw his body stiffen and his eyes widen.

His face turned pale, and foam bubbled out of his mouth.

There was no time to wait, not a single moment to lose.

The doctor had said to rush him to the hospital at the first sign of a seizure.

But there I was, alone in the garage, with no one around to help.

Panicked, I called an ambulance.

As I waited for the ambulance, my son lost all consciousness.

His seizures didn't stop, and he kept foaming at the mouth.

I rubbed his body frantically, trying to soften his rigid limbs.

It was useless.

I collapsed to my knees, my belly so huge I could barely move.

But I had to save my son.

I shouted for help, hoping someone would hear me.

Someone called, saying there had been a chain collision on the road, and the ambulance was stuck. They were sending another ambulance from a different hospital, but I knew it was taking too long.

Paul couldn't wait.

I struggled to lift my 30-pound son and started walking out of the garage.

It was agonizing, each step a challenge.

Paul's seizures continued, his limbs flailing uncontrollably.

His hands slapped against my swollen belly. I could only hold him tightly and press on.

Finally, I reached the main road, and a kind neighbor saw us and drove us to the hospital.

I burst through the hospital doors with my son in my arms.

His seizures slowed and then stopped altogether.

He also stopped breathing.

The doctors quickly took him from my arms and rushed to save him, but I had nothing left.

I collapsed to the ground, exhausted.

Then I felt a warm fluid running down my legs.

The pain in my belly gripped my heart with fear.

Sweat beaded on my forehead.

My baby, the one inside me, was about to be born too early.

I saw nurses running towards me with a stretcher, but through my blurry vision, I saw three figures walking ahead of me.

Two adults, one on each side, were holding the hands of a little girl between them.

She was bobbing her head, looking so happy.

And that man, the one holding her hand, was my husband.

I reached out my hand.

I wanted to tell him our son was being rescued.

I wanted to tell him that I was about to give birth prematurely.

But in the end, I didn't say a word.

I passed out.

The three of them slowly disappeared before my eyes.

When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

The room was all white.

I touched my slightly swollen belly.

I wondered if I had given birth.

I grabbed the nurse beside me who was giving me a shot.

"My baby, he..." I asked.

The nurse hesitated before revealing the hard truth.

"Don't get upset, take good care of yourself. You can have more children in the future," she replied.

My mind buzzed with her words.

I already had children, two of them.

"My condolence, the baby stopped breathing in the womb. Now you need to take care of your own body," she added.

I didn't believe it. The baby was kicking around in my womb yesterday. How could it be gone now?

That was impossible.

But I didn't have time to think about this. I still had Paul to worry about.

I got up, but the nurse stopped me.

"You just had surgery, and the anesthesia hasn't worn off yet. You can't get out of bed. You'll faint," she said.

I couldn't care less. I had to find Paul.

"I have a son. He had a fever, and I brought him here. Where is he now? Take me to see him," I insisted.

The nurse's face grew even more serious.

"H-He was already gone when he was brought in," she said hesitantly.

"If he had been brought in a few minutes earlier, he could have been saved."

"Just a few minutes."

Impossible!

My tears fell uncontrollably.

I didn't believe it.

I had rushed him to the hospital as fast as I could.

I hadn't delayed a second.

I had remembered the doctor's words.

I had already brought Paul to the hospital. In the past, as long as he was brought to the hospital quickly when he had a seizure, he would be fine.

He should be fine too this time.

I pushed the nurse away. I had to see my children.

The nurse held me and cried too.

"I know you're heartbroken, but you still need to take care of your own body first. They are in the morgue now.

"You can go see them after you've rested.

"Do you have any family members? Notify them as soon as possible," she said.

Family members?

I didn't have any. I was an orphan.

So, I always longed for a happy family.

"We called the number in your phone labeled 'husband' when you fainted during surgery, but no one answered," she said.

Of course. Mose was with Carol.

He was with Carol's daughter, who had fallen.

He would not remember me or our children.

The nurse was right. I couldn't get up now.

I passed out.

When I woke up again, I reached for my phone.

Sure enough, I saw 5 outgoing calls, but Mose didn't answer any of them.

I tried calling him.

I wanted him to come to see his children. I wanted him to kneel in front of them and repent.

If he hadn't gone to find Carol or taken the car, they wouldn't have been lying in the cold freezer now.

All of this was Mose's fault.

He answered the call, but before I could say anything, he started cursing me.

"Emily, are you satisfied now? Making things turn out like this, are you satisfied?"

With what?

Our children were gone, and I was heartbroken.

He had no right to scold me.

"I told you, after sending Carol's daughter to the hospital, I would come back to pick you up, but you kept calling non-stop.

"There was a car accident, and Carol's daughter died. Are you happy now?" he said.

Turned out Carol's daughter was also gone.

I was happy about it.

I was so happy that my tears fell.

I was satisfied with the result.

Carol's daughter was there to accompany my children. How could I not be satisfied?

On the other end of the phone, Carol cursed at me.

"Emily, just you wait, I'm not done with you. You will pay for my daughter's life.

"I will kill you. Ahhh..."

Mose was still comforting her.

"Carol, don't cry. Restrain your sorrow. It breaks my heart.

"Don't worry, I'll make it right. I'll bring Emily to you to atone for the child," he said.

I threw the phone away, wondering who really needed to atone.

Who was to blame, really?

Mose was still yelling on the phone.

"Emily, where are you? Don't think hiding will save you.

"If you know what's good for you, come quickly and bow to the child. Repent sincerely, or else..."

I cut off his call.

This disgusting piece of trash treated someone else's daughter like a treasure and his son like dirt.

All this time, he hadn't asked once about Paul, even though he knew Paul had a fever when he left.

He knew Paul had a history of febrile seizures.

He knew I was eight months pregnant.

But he hadn't asked about us once. He was just helping Carol get revenge.

I forced myself to get up.

I had to see my children!