My Husband Abandoned Me to Save His Childhood Friend's Do

I was in labor with twins—my second pregnancy—and it was a difficult birth. With the last bit of my strength, I called my husband, Franco, the so-called "renowned gynecologist" who should have been by my side.

What I heard on the other end wasn’t comfort—it was barking. A chorus of panicked howls.

His voice was cold and distant. "I'm performing a C-section on Leanna's dog. There are eight lives in her belly. You’ve only got two."

Then, with a scoff, he added, "What, you can’t give birth without me? Leanna has depression. If her dog dies, she won’t survive either."

Before I could reply, he hung up—and blocked my number.

Our son Alec, only a child, ran off to find Franco and begged him to help me. But he was in a rush, cradling a shivering dog in his arms, too busy escorting it to the pet hospital.

Without a care, he shoved Alec aside.

My son stumbled, fell to the ground, and chased after him in tears—only to be struck and killed by a speeding truck.

My unborn twins died in my womb, suffocated due to the delay in surgery. And I, from severe blood loss, was left unable to bear children ever again.

Losing all three of my children broke me. I wept until I could no longer breathe.

When Franco saw the three urns and the divorce papers, he completely lost it.

——

After emergency surgery, I had barely been wheeled into my room when Franco barged in with Leanna clinging to him.

He stormed up to me, grabbed my arm, and yelled, "Mara, you're nearly thirty. Why are you being so dramatic about giving birth? You needed me there?"

"Leanna's dog nearly died! Do you have any idea how serious that was? And you—jealous and petty—made such a scene that the hospital director insisted on a C-section and forced me to come back for you?"

His gaze dropped to my deflated stomach. He sneered. "Didn’t you deliver naturally anyway? Don’t act so weak. I’m a doctor—I know what a natural birth looks like. With your body, you could’ve run a marathon right after. This act just disgusts me."

As he pulled me, the stitches from the C-section tore open again. The pain was blinding, my body soaked in cold sweat.

I was deathly pale, my voice hoarse as I whispered, "The babies... they didn’t make it. It was a difficult birth..."

Before I could finish, Leanna burst into tears.

"I’m sorry, Mara, this is all my fault. Maple had complications too, and I didn’t know who else to call. I had to ask Franco. Please don’t blame him—don’t keep him from seeing his kids because of me..."

Franco glared at me, then gently pulled her into his arms.

“She’s making a fuss over giving birth—what’s the big deal? It’s not even her first child. Still acting all pure like she's never had one. I spoiled her too much.”

Then, as if switching masks, he turned to Leanna and softened.

"Don’t listen to her. Maple gave birth to eight puppies on her first try. She's the one who’s strong and amazing."

Looking at them, it felt like a thousand needles stabbed straight into the softest part of my heart.

So this was it. In his eyes, Leanna’s dog... was more important than our children.

"You came just to show off that the dog gave birth safely?" I choked out, my voice trembling with grief.

Leanna wiped her tears and gently clutched my wrist.

"No... I came to ask for your help, Mara."

I yanked my hand free. "I just lost my children and nearly died. I don’t have anything left to give."

"Mara!" Franco snapped. "It’s just a small favor—don’t be so heartless!"

"You had twins. Your prolactin levels are double. Maple can’t produce milk yet. We need some to feed her puppies—"

I grabbed the glass from my bedside and hurled it at him. "Get out!"

Leanna wailed, "If Maple’s puppies die, I don’t want to live either!"