He betrayed me, so I left him

“Mr. Dante, you’re her husband, correct?”

He didn’t even look at me. “I don’t have such a vicious wife,” he said coolly.

Then he turned and walked out.

I stared at the door, the whole world swaying around me.

The doctor sighed. “Madam, there’s something I need to tell you. You… were one month pregnant.”

I froze, my throat tightening.

“But you’ve miscarried.”

My voice was barely a whisper. “Why… did I miscarry?”

“Because your body was already weak during the transfusion,” the doctor said softly. “And your husband signed the consent form allowing the blood to be drawn.”

My whole body went rigid.

“He knew I was pregnant?”

The doctor nodded.

“Yes, he knew.”

For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat slow, painful, and trembling.

I tore out the IV and stumbled out of bed.

The doctor rushed after me. “Miss Giselle, you’ve lost too much blood!”

“Where is he?” I demanded through clenched teeth.

He hesitated, then pointed to the room next door.

I pushed the door open.

Dante was sitting beside Lyra, gently helping her drink water, his expression unbearably tender.

“You bastard!”

My voice ripped through the air.

He looked up, frowning. “What are you hysterical about now?”

I strode forward and slapped him hard across the face.

“You killed our child!”

Lyra’s eyes flickered, and the corner of her lips curved into a faint smile.

“Child? You were pregnant?” she asked softly.

“Shut up!” I screamed.

“Enough!”

Dante stepped protectively in front of her and shoved me backward.

I fell to the floor, pain shooting through my abdomen as blood streamed down my legs.

“You… you signed to drain my blood when I was carrying our child? For her?”

“She almost died!” he snapped. “I couldn’t just stand there and watch!”

A bitter laugh escaped me, tears sliding down my cheeks.

“And our baby? Didn’t it deserve to live?”

“Maybe this is karma,” he said coldly. “A jealous woman doesn’t deserve to be a mother.”

I stood frozen, as if plunged into ice.

Lyra held his arm gently and whispered, “Don’t say that, it’s my fault…”

I looked at them and finally understood. I was never the exception in his life only the sacrifice in his love story.

I forced myself to stand, trembling, and wiped my tears.

“You’ll regret this,” I said quietly, my voice so calm it scared even me.

Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital.

He never came.

The house was empty, the air cold and hollow.

On the table lay an envelope from the lawyer the divorce papers.

I signed my name, my hand steady, almost too steady.

I once believed love could redeem a person,

but now I know love can kill, too.

I packed my bags and closed the door behind me.

The house felt like a tomb.

When the plane lifted into the sky, I watched the city lights shrink into the distance.

I knew the woman named Giselle was dead.

And I would return, under a new name,

to reclaim everything for my child, and for myself.