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I Finally Gave Up Loving You Novel Cover

I Finally Gave Up Loving You

At Julia's funeral, my world shattered into pieces. But the true devastation came from a delayed message from Jeremy. While Julia drew her final, desperate breaths during a fatal asthma attack, Jeremy was stargazing with Wendy Roberts, his first love. Dismissing the medical emergency as minor, he prioritized Wendy's happiness over a life-or-death crisis. He remains completely unaware that his phone call never ended, exposing his cruel indifference.
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Chapter 3

With a surge of urgency, I darted forward, snatching the manuscript from beneath Wendy's feet.

In her spite, she stomped down, her high heel crushing my already injured wrist.

"Enough is enough," Jeremy chided.

His tone was seemingly directed at Wendy, yet his gaze remained condescending, fixed upon me.

He seemed to believe that he could revert to his old ways, that a mere flicker of interest would beckon me back.

I gazed at the manuscripts, now scattered and soiled by the wind into the murky sewers. The cacophony of the bustling street only served to snap the last thread of my sanity.

The last taut string in my mind completely broke at this moment.

Julia's fragmented visage at her tragic demise flashed before my eyes.

Enraged, I hurled my bag at Jeremy.

"Leave me be! We are done, and you should never dare to show your face to me again!"

Each encounter with Jeremy resurrected the past.

A constant thought of my perceived role in Julia's death haunted me.

"How long will you persist in this charade? There's nothing untoward between Wendy and me. She battles depression. Is it wrong for a friend to show concern?" Jeremy defended.

Depression?

I knew Julia's struggle with asthma, so the medications were always within reach at home and in the car.

That fateful day, amidst her attack, I frantically searched the car, only to find a box of fluoxetine.

In my dazed state, I hadn't questioned it.

I assumed it was a mere mix-up. But now, the truth dawned. Wendy had something with it.

"Has Wendy ever sat in the passenger seat of my car?" I demanded.

"Why raise such a trivial matter? Wendy admired the color of your car. She was out of sorts that day, so I offered her a ride. Why make a mountain out of a molehill?" Jeremy retorted.

It was Wendy, her presence in my car, that she had replaced the life-saving asthma medication with fluoxetine.

It was this so-called petty act that had cost Julia her life.

Struggling to my feet, I struck Wendy with a resounding slap.

"Evelyn, are you out of your mind?" Jeremy bellowed, pushing me away.

My lower back collided with the guardrail, the pain searing, rendering me immobile.

Realizing his overstep, Jeremy reached to assist, but Wendy interjected first.

"Since I'm Jeremy's first love, you've made it your mission to torment me. Fine. If my existence is so unbearable, I'll kill myself before your eyes!"

Sobbing, Wendy fled. Jeremy was in pursuit without hesitation.

Leaning against the guardrail, I found my body drenched in sweat.

A passerby, unable to bear my distress, transported me to the hospital.

The physician attended to my right hand and delivered the news that both shocked and burdened me: I was pregnant.

"Your recent stress, coupled with the blow to your abdomen, has put you in a precarious state. There're signs of miscarriage. Hospitalization for observation is advised," the doctor cautioned.

Once, the prospect of a child with Jeremy had filled me with hope.

Now, joy eluded me.

I had lost my father early, and Julia's busy work had left me clinging to Jeremy, yearning for a family.

I had endured his indifference and neglect because of my longing for familial love. But I couldn't subject my child to such a life.

I knew all too well the ache of being unloved.

"Please arrange for an abortion." I looked up and implored the doctor.

As I prepared to abort the child and cut all ties to Jeremy, he appeared, a rare gesture of his own accord.

He presented me with a bouquet, his first in four years.

"Today, I was rash. But you pushed Wendy too far. She's unwell..."

His words trailed off because my icy demeanor silenced him.

At this very moment, the fragile figure resting upon the sterile hospital bed with an IV drip was none other than myself.

"Let's put this behind us. Never mention it again. Our wedding approaches, so you must learn to be a fitting wife," he continued.

For years, I had molded myself to his desires.

I denied myself sweets and snacks, maintaining a strict weight of 104 pounds.

I had suppressed my jealousy and aided him in managing his scandals.

My kindness was as natural as breathing. Yet, now, with my love extinguished, even a single word felt like a monumental effort.

"I've ordered a million-dollar wedding dress for you, and the bouquet will be crafted from your favorite tulips..." Jeremy revealed.

His words reminded me of his knowledge of my preferences and his indifference to them.

He had never taken me to the tulip garden but had whisked Wendy there to soothe her woes.

He knew of my dream for a grand wedding and universal blessings, yet he feared upsetting Wendy and denied me that dream.

Love, a wedding, and tulips, once coveted, now felt trivial. Their allure faded.

I closed my eyes wearily. "Leave. I need rest."

Before Jeremy could respond, a text message on my phone popped up.

[Ms. Green, please come to the Medical University immediately. Wendy threatens to desecrate your mother's body.]

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