My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Our Eight Years of Marriage

Along with the loss of my child, the last trace of affection between us vanished as well.

Ryan tore up the blood donation consent form and hurled the shredded pieces at my face.

“Therese, you’re perfectly fine, aren’t you? Since you love playing the victim so much, then stay here and keep acting!”

He turned his back on me and walked away with Daisy in his arms, never looking back.

I lay in a pool of blood, my heart shattered into pieces.

My consciousness blurred as I was wheeled into the operating room.

Even lying on the cold surgical table, I could feel the instruments stirring inside me—metallic, cold, and unforgiving.

The child I had prayed for, kneeling step by step before the Buddha, was reduced to nothing but a pool of blood.

Through the entire operation, Ryan never sent a single message.

He didn’t care whether I lived or died—let alone about the child I carried.

When the anesthesia wore off, I trembled as I reached for my phone, intending to ask someone to help prepare the divorce papers.

Instead, I stumbled upon a trending post.

Ryan had just bought out every maternity store in the city for Daisy.

The photo showed him on one knee before her, eyes filled with adoration, his face gently pressed against her swollen belly.

A flood of memories came rushing back.

Five years ago, Ryan had been trapped in a mudslide during a business trip.

I was already eight months pregnant at the time.

My mother and I rushed through the night to find him, and together, we dug him out from beneath the rubble with our bare hands.

All ten of my fingers were scraped to the bone. I lost the child in my belly from the sheer exhaustion.

When the mountain crumbled again, my mother used the last of her strength to push him out of harm’s way.

A falling boulder struck the back of her head—she’s been in a coma ever since.

I didn’t even have time to grieve. I was rushed into intensive care and fought for my life for three days straight.

When I finally woke up, I learned I had damaged my uterus. The chances of conceiving again were slim to none.

At that time, Ryan knelt before me, just like he did for her today, and vowed that even if we couldn’t have children, he would still stay by my side for life.

But now, I was left with nothing.

And he had become the blade that pierced through my heart.

The fragile strength I had clung to finally snapped.

Sobbing, I called my lawyer and asked him to prepare the divorce agreement as soon as possible.

Before I left the hospital, I visited my mother’s room.

I knelt at her bedside and broke down in tears.

“Mom... I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve been living a happy life at all.”

“The baby is gone. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want Ryan or this family.”

“You won’t blame me... will you?”

My mother lay silently in her hospital bed, unmoving.

But a single tear rolled down from the corner of her eye—saying more than words ever could.

When I finally returned home in a daze, Ryan was kneeling in front of Daisy, gently holding her foot and massaging it with tenderness written all over his face.

When I was pregnant, even when I was wracked with cramps, he never once did that for me.

He always claimed that, as someone of his status, giving a woman a foot massage was beneath him.

But now I understand—love and indifference could be painfully obvious.

The moment I stepped through the door, Ryan sneered coldly.

“You’ve got some nerve coming back. That performance at the hospital was Oscar-worthy—anyone who didn’t know better might think you’re the one who’s pregnant.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, swallowing the pain, and walked silently toward my room.

But Daisy stepped in front of me, dragging the two children with her.

Her face was filled with faux remorse as she pleaded pitifully.

“Therese, I didn’t listen to you and leave like I promised. You can punish me however you like.”

“If you want to hit me, I deserve it. Once I give birth, I’ll leave—I just hope you can acknowledge Ryan’s children.”

She tried to kneel, but Ryan pulled her into his arms.

He let out a scoff and looked at me with cold, mocking eyes.

“There’s no need for her to beg you. I’m the one who couldn’t keep it in my pants. What did she do wrong?”