I Swear, I’ll Make My Husband Pay!

All I wanted to do was tear that smug grin off her face. I trembled with rage, my eyes bulging with fury. Unfortunately, the slightest movement I made sent sharp pain shooting through my abdominal wound.

“Ugh—”

Seeing me drenched in cold sweat from the pain, Rosalia withdrew her hand and sneered at my sunken belly.

“Oh, right. The baby's gone. Must be heartbreaking for you, huh?” Her tone turned vicious. “As long as you don't leave Timothy, I'll make sure you'll suffer everyday.”

My teeth clenched so hard they ground together. “What do you want?”

She chuckled softly, saying nothing and strode away in her high heels. At the doorway, she suddenly turned and gave me a sinister grin.

“Heaven knows what kind retribution awaits you.”

Before I could react, she had already way past the door.

My retribution? My mind went blank, yet rage still churned in my chest.

I clenched my fists, desperately piecing together the past 25 years.

But nothing came up! I had never done anything that was intentionally mean.

***

Timothy cared for me at the hospital for three days. He even brought me shrimp congee.

“Claudine, come taste your favorite shrimp congee.”

The savory steam filled my nostrils, triggering nausea. I covered my mouth and gagged. Even after three years of marriage, he couldn't remember my shrimp allergy!

Doubt crept into my mind: Why had he married me in the first place?

Was it truly as Rosalia claimed? That I'd have my retribution? What did I ever do?

Seeing my face twisted with resentment, Timothy angrily flung the bowl of congee and shouted, “Claudia! Can't you stop being so stubborn for once?”

I turned to give him a cold, dismissive glance. I said hoarsely, “If you can't stand my stubbornness, then why did you marry me three years ago?”

My question caught him off guard. He stared at me, utterly bewildered.

As if trying to communicate things with a complete new stranger, Timothy frowned and said his complaints, “You're completely unreasonable!”

Afterwards, he stormed out of the hospital room.

***

For the next two days, Timothy never returned to the hospital. Early on the sixth day, his secretary, Danny, handled my discharge paperwork and drove me back to the hotel that Timothy was supposed to stay.

As I weakly propped up in a recliner, I picked up my phone and scrolled through my phone repeatedly.

Timothy’s social media feed showed no trace of Rosalia. He’d always been the model husband, showering me with care. Now I couldn’t tell—had his genuine affection for me been nothing but an illusion?

As I continued to remember my past, my finger hovered over that man's number, my pupils shrink slightly. Memories flooded back instantly—that man's furious gaze was etched into my memory forever.

Was it really worth abandoning everything to marry Timothy?

Suddenly a splitting headache overwhelmed me and I drifted into a hazy sleep. I slept until evening, when the room's lights suddenly snapped on.

Timothy had returned from his meeting to find me asleep on the lounge chair. Without a word of concern, he shed his coat and walked into the bathroom.

I forced myself to sit up. Suddenly, my phone on the bed buzzed.

It was a LetsChat message from Rosalia's younger brother, Marvin.

I tried typing Timothy's birthday and successfully unlocked his LetsChat interface.

Marvin: [I've told the hospital to dispose of the child's body.]

My fingertips trembled. 'The child's body'? My heartbeat skipped a beat as I hurriedly scrolled through the chat history.

Marvin: [After three years of marriage, you really had the heart to kill your own child?]

Timothy: [If Dad hadn't forced me into this marriage, I never would have taken her as my wife.]

Marvin: [The perpetrator and doctor have been taken care of. The police won't bother us.]

Timothy: [Well done. I'd never let the child of a murderer inherit Becker Enterprises.]

[Now that Rosalia is carrying my son, I'll never have to tolerate that hateful woman again...]

So this was the truth behind my miscarriage!