Leaving Behind My Nine-Year Marriage

While Michael’s world revolved entirely around Daniela, I walked swiftly out the door.

I had barely stepped outside the villa when—a car horn sounded twice.

Beep—beep!

I saw a silver sedan parked just beyond the iron gate and quickened my pace, hope rising in my chest.

But before the gate could open, two bodyguards emerged from the shadows.

They grabbed me roughly and dragged me back into the villa.

Inside the study, Michael had me tightly bound, arms restrained behind my back.

Without warning, he ordered someone to drive a needle—thick as a child’s arm—into my vein.

From behind the half-open door, I heard the doctor speaking nervously.

“Mr. Hudson, although both Madam and Miss Daniela have RH-negative blood, Madam has a long history of heart disease. Forcing a blood draw could trigger acute shock. I really think we should go to the hospital and—”

“No need to persuade me.” Michael’s voice was icy. “Your only job is to make sure Daniela gets better. I’ll handle everything else.”

I heard his footsteps approaching, and slowly closed my eyes.

“Does it hurt?”

His tone, for once, carried a trace of gentleness.

“Hang in there. It’ll be over soon.”

I turned my head away, unwilling to waste a single word on him.

By the time they had drawn 800cc of blood, my lips were already turning purple.

Just then, a faint cough echoed from the master bedroom—it was Daniela.

Upon hearing it, Michael immediately pushed the doctor’s hand aside and ordered him to draw blood twice as much.

The doctor, drenched in cold sweat, warned him again, “If I continued, Madam could die.”

Michael paused for only two seconds before replying coldly, “Daniela is pregnant, and the baby comes first.”

“But—”

Without hesitation, I interrupted the doctor. “Just do it. But after this, let me go.”

Looking at my bloodless face, Michael’s eyes flashed with cold fury.

He opened his mouth to scold me, ready to ask if I’d had enough of this childish tantrum, if I was really going to abandon our home over something so trivial—

Then Daniela’s delicate voice rant from the bedroom. “Michael...”

And just like that, he left me behind.

—

Two days later.

I woke up in a hospital room, still weak from the shock.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw Michael sitting at the side table, flipping through documents.

Our eyes locked for a long moment.

Expressionless, he picked up a bowl of porridge and moved to feed me.

I shook my head. “I’ll do it myself.”

He said nothing, just watched me quietly as I ate half the bowl.

Then he asked, “Do you feel unwell anywhere?”

I didn’t answer the question and said, “Please give me my phone.”

Perhaps my tone was too distant because he froze for several seconds before calling the housekeeper to bring it over.

As I checked my phone, I noticed numerous missed calls.

“Who’s been calling you?” Michael’s voice cut in suddenly.

He never used to ask questions like this.

A hint of annoyance flitted through my eyes.

“Someone you don’t know,” I replied flatly.

He unfastened the top button of his shirt, leaning over me with a cold gaze.

“Ashlyn, how long do you plan to keep up this spoiled act?”

“I give you an inch and you want the whole mile?”

In the past, whenever he got angry, I’d rush to reflect on my mistakes—try to soothe him, fix things, make peace.

But now?

I simply pointed to his buzzing phone and said, without emotion, “It’s Daniela.”

The moment her name left my lips, Michael's expression softened with a hint of a smile.

Without another glance at me, he stepped into the corridor to take her call.

As soon as he left, my phone rang.

Taking a deep breath, I answered the call.

Before I could say anything, the voice on the other end broke through, anxious and urgent.

“Weren’t you supposed to meet me? Ashlyn, did you change your mind?”

“No... I didn’t. Something just came up,” I said.

“Something came up? What happened? No, this won’t do—I’m coming back. I’m flying home myself!”