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I Miscarried, and My Husband Laughed Novel Cover

I Miscarried, and My Husband Laughed

After a devastating miscarriage, Damian Gifford publicly humiliates his wife to please his mistress, Seraphina Jernigan. When the grieving wife exposes their cruelty, Damian reacts with rage, blocking her while Seraphina flaunts their matching wedding bands online. Exhausted by the constant abuse, the scorned wife decides she is done pretending to be a commoner. She makes a single phone call to the nation's wealthiest family, ready to finally return home.
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Chapter 2

Not just today. In the past, on every single day that mattered to me, I would buy Damian a gift.

Until I found those gifts in the trash cans at his company, or tossed into the nanny’s room at Gifford Manor.

Even our wedding anniversary not long ago—I saved two months’ salary to buy him a sports watch.

In the end, it wound up strapped around Seraphina’s schnauzer’s right leg.

From that moment on, I finally understood: in his heart, I wasn’t even worth as much as Seraphina’s dog.

So why the hell should I keep throwing myself at his cold, ungrateful ass?

“True. You’re not some teenager or girl in her early twenties anymore. You don’t take this day as seriously as you used to.”

As Damian spoke, the way he looked at me suddenly turned a little wistful, a little complicated, as if something had just come back to him.

After a long pause, he cleared his throat and tried to sound casual.

“Penny, when you told me back then that you were a virgin… you were lying, weren’t you?”

The words exploded in my ears like thunder. I stared at Damian in disbelief.

I’d met him when I was working in a bar to pay my tuition.

When he confessed his feelings, he said he’d fallen for the way I fought to climb upward even while stuck in the mud.

And now that same part of my past had become the reason he doubted my private life.

I was so furious my whole body started to shake; my eyes burned red.

“Damian, what the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

Seeing my reaction, Damian’s gaze flickered. He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to explain.

But the next second, his phone rang—it was Seraphina’s custom ringtone.

“What’s wrong? Your claustrophobia again? Don’t cry, don’t cry, it kills me when you cry!”

“I’ll be right there! Ten minutes—no, five!”

He rushed off to change his shoes.

I glanced at the notification on my own phone, then braced myself and got out of bed, stepping out of the bedroom.

When Damian saw me come out, he snapped instantly, anger flaring in his eyes.

“I thought you finally changed, but you’re just gonna follow me out again? Penny, your paranoia is so bad you should get your damn brain checked!”

I ignored him, walked straight past that raging glare, opened the front door, took the food delivery from outside, and even smiled at the delivery guy as I thanked him.

Damian’s face froze.

“You’ve got perfectly good food and you still eat this takeout crap all day!”

“I bet it’s that processed shit that ruined your uterus! Five years and you can’t lay a single egg!”

With that parting shot, he stormed out and slammed the door so hard the walls shook.

I sat calmly at the dining table, eating a hotdog while scrolling through the list of lawyers my friends had recommended.

When I opened my social feed, a photo suddenly jumped out at me—it was posted by my mother-in-law, Loretta.

In the photo, she, Damian, and Seraphina were pressed close together, smiling.

And on Damian’s ring finger, he wasn’t wearing his wedding band, but a matching couple’s ring with Seraphina.

The caption read: “A photo of our little family of three (smile)”

A family of three.

Of course. Seraphina, the rich heiress, was the ideal, well-matched daughter-in-law in Loretta’s eyes.

Ever since Seraphina came back to the country, Loretta had done everything she could to push her and Damian to rekindle their old romance—

Even though by then he’d already married me, the poor nobody.

At first, Damian would still say a few words in my defense, but the longer he spent reunited with Seraphina, the more he grew to despise me.

He thought I was vulgar. He looked down on my education. He said I had no polish, no depth, no class.

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