My Five Times Abortion for My Husband Mistress’s Speciment

I looked at him in disbelief, as if seeing him for the first time. My voice cracked as I pointed at Lydia, my vision blurred with tears.

"My retribution? The ones who truly deserve retribution are you!"

I took a shaky breath, my entire body trembling with rage. "Gerrald, do you dare to tell me why my children—who were perfectly healthy inside me—were all born stillborn? And what did you do with their bodies?!"

Gerrald's brows furrowed, a flicker of impatience in his expression. "Your health was always weak, Jenny. The children suffered because of that. Their deaths were inevitable—you just didn't realize it when you were pregnant. I buried them properly. Why are you bringing up these meaningless things now? Apologize to Lydia."

I stared at him, my heart hollow, my hands numb at my sides.

I knew. Deep down, I knew this was the answer I would get. But why did it still hurt so much?

My fingers clenched into fists before loosening. Slowly, I bent down and picked up a shard of broken glass from the ground. Without hesitation, I brought it to my left hand and, in one swift motion, sliced off my pinky finger.

Blood spurted out instantly, splattering onto the cold marble floor.

"Jenny!" Gerrald's voice was sharp with alarm.

I lifted my gaze to meet his, my lips curling into a bitter smile.

"Gerrald, you’re right. Ms. Maron’s hands are meant to shine in the operating room. Since her palm is wounded, I’ll compensate her with a finger. Is that enough?"

The crimson pooled at my feet as I turned away, stepping over the blood like it meant nothing. Gerrald hesitated. For a moment, just a moment, I thought he might reach for me. But then Lydia whimpered and clung to him, her tear-filled voice breaking through the silence.

"Gerrald, my hand hurts..."

His hesitation vanished. He let me go.

***

As I sat in the hospital waiting room, my phone vibrated with an incoming call from Gerrald.

"Honey, how's your hand? Don’t worry, Lydia’s hand is fine. It's my fault today. I know you've always blamed yourself for the children's deaths and I shouldn’t have said those things."

I remained silent, my fingers tightening around my phone.

"But I promised my mother that I’d go through with the wedding. It's just for show, but if I delay the date, she’ll be upset. She’s getting old and her health isn’t the best. I’m worried..."

"I'm fine," I cut him off, my voice calm, detached. "Take good care of her. Don't let your mom worry."

Gerrald chuckled softly. "Silly Honey, what do you mean, 'your mom'? She's our mom. Don't worry, one day I'll make her recognize you."

There was a warmth in his voice, as if he truly believed his own words.

"The day after tomorrow, I'm leaving the country. Tomorrow, I'll come home and bring you something delicious. Be good, alright?"

I didn’t answer. Instead, my gaze drifted to the open ward door beside me, where a television was broadcasting the latest news.

[Breaking News: President of the Raymond Group pampers his wife to the extreme! Despite her minor hand injury, he called in top medical experts from across the country overnight. To cheer her up, he spent 300 million yuan at an auction on a jade beauty roller once used by a noble consort in the imperial court.]

The camera cut to Lydia, smiling coyly as reporters swarmed her. The headline flashed bold across the screen: The Most Adored Woman in the World.

I turned to the doctor standing beside me. "I'm ready." Even with the anesthesia, I felt the instruments scraping away at my insides, hollowing me out once more. I had lost another child. When I left the hospital, my arms wrapped around my empty stomach, tears slipped down my cheeks, silent and endless.

Baby, I'm sorry. In your next life, don’t choose me as your mother.

***

The next day, Gerrald didn’t come home. Instead, he called.

"Jenny, I’m sorry. I really wanted to be with you today, but my mom suddenly wasn’t feeling well. As her son, I have to be here for her."

I glanced down at my phone, my lips curling into a humorless smile. A minute earlier, Lydia had just posted an update on her social media.

In the photo, she sat on a plush hotel bed, draped in a silk bathrobe. Gerrald was kneeling at her feet, bare-chested, his hands gently massaging her ankles, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips still parted, as if she had just been thoroughly ravished.

Clothes were strewn across the floor, a telltale sign of the passion they had shared moments before. I closed my phone and took a deep breath. Without hesitation, I gathered everything I owned and set it ablaze. The fire roared, devouring every trace of my existence in his life. The past seven years, the love I had given him, the pain I had endured—it all turned to ash before my eyes.

***

At dawn, I arrived at the airport. Just as I was about to board my flight, my phone buzzed with a new message from Gerrald.

"Jenny, are you up yet? Don't forget to eat breakfast. I really can't bear to be away from you—I miss you so much."

"Be good and wait for your husband at home. When I come back, I'll bring you a gift. I miss your lips. If only I could kiss them now."

I lifted my eyes and looked across the terminal. Not far from me, Gerrald was holding Lydia in his arms, kissing her deeply, even as his fingers moved effortlessly over his phone screen to send me that message.

How impressive. It must have been exhausting for him to keep up such an act. I didn't bother replying. Instead, I gathered the photos and chat records stored on my phone, compiled them into a single file and scheduled them to be sent to Gerrald’s work email. Then, without hesitation, I turned and walked towards the boarding gate—one that led to a different destination from his.

***

Meanwhile, Gerrald arrived at the lavish wedding banquet venue abroad. His mother and a hall full of esteemed guests were already gathered, eagerly awaiting the ceremony.

Frowning, he checked his phone again. Still no reply from me. A strange unease settled in his chest.

After a moment of thought, he called his assistant.

"Book a ticket for Madam to come here tomorrow. She must be feeling lonely at home without me."

It was a calculated move. By the time she arrived, the wedding would be over. Even if she wanted to cause a scene, it would be too late.

Holding Lydia’s hand, he stepped onto the stage just as his assistant came rushing forward, face pale, phone clutched tightly in his trembling hands.

"Mr. Raymond! There's a serious problem! Madam—she found out everything about the children!"

Gerrald’s breath caught. "What are you talking about?"

The assistant gulped before continuing, his voice shaking. "A few hours ago, she boarded a flight to another country. And just now, we received confirmation—the plane crashed."