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

Suddenly, Leanna grabbed the fruit knife from the table and slashed at her wrist.

Franco panicked, lunging to snatch it away. In his haste, the blade slashed a deep gash into my thigh.

Blood gushed out instantly, but he didn’t even notice.

He was too busy cradling the now-fainting Leanna in his arms, whispering words of comfort, completely unaware of the wound he had just inflicted on me.

In the chaos, the black medical case beside the bed was knocked over. It popped open slightly—just enough for a splash of bloodied water to spill out.

Leanna shrieked and buried herself deeper into Franco’s embrace. He, in turn, kicked the box away in disgust.

But that box held the bodies of the twins—our babies—who had died before they could even open their eyes and see the world.

Tears poured down my cheeks. Ignoring the pain in my leg, I crawled toward the box and tried to protect it with my arms.

But my desperate attempt only infuriated Franco.

He kicked the box further away and coldly called for hospital staff to dispose of it.

“No! Don’t! Please!”

I sobbed so hard it felt like my insides were being torn apart. I clutched the box tightly to my chest, trembling all over.

Franco paused, then muttered with a frown, "Mara... are you having postpartum depression or something?"

He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and left, holding Leanna close as he walked away, leaving behind nothing but the echo of my cries in the cold hospital room.

—

It was a long time before he returned.

This time, he brought a postpartum meal and awkwardly cleared his throat.

“I overreacted earlier,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have lied to me while I was operating on Maple.”

He sighed, as if the whole thing had been a minor misunderstanding. “Leanna only developed depression because she fell in love with me. I feel responsible for her. But I only see her as a sister. All those things I said—just to comfort her. You understand, right? You’re always the understanding one.”

It had always been this way.

If Leanna was unhappy, he would mess with me or Alec just to make her laugh. Then he’d bring us a small treat, a hollow apology, thinking it would make everything right.

I looked at the lipstick stain on the hem of his shirt and gave him a small, numb smile.

It was over. I felt nothing but bitter emptiness.

However, he seemed to take that as forgiveness.

He changed the subject, his tone light. “So? What about the babies? Were they both boys? Or two girls? Maybe one of each?”

He waved over a nurse, beaming. “Bring them in. I want to see my kids.”

The nurse hesitated. She glanced at me, then at him. “Dr. Davidson... your children, they..."

Just then, his phone rang.

Of course, it was Leanna.

He answered immediately.

“Franco...” she cooed. “Maple just spit up some milk... is she going to die?”

“Don’t be scared, Leanna. I’m coming right now.”

He hung up and rushed out of the room, so fast he forgot his coat.

The nurse called after him indignantly, “Dr. Davidson! Your wife just had a C-section!”

But Franco had already vanished down the hallway.

I grabbed the nurse’s arm before she could follow.

“I don’t need his pity,” I said quietly. “Can you... take me to see my son?”

Alec was waiting. On the eighteenth floor—in the morgue.

I held my abdomen where the fresh wound throbbed with each breath and staggered toward the cold farewell room.

There, beneath the sterile lights, lay my son.

Alec looked so peaceful.

Tears splashed onto my hands as I pulled his tiny body into my arms.

“My sweet, silly Alec... did it hurt? I’m sorry, Mommy didn’t protect you.”

“I miss you so much. You were always so obedient, so kind. How could you bear to leave me behind?”

“Why didn’t you take me with you? Are you scared, all alone out there?”

“It should’ve been me. I chose the wrong father for you. It’s all my fault.”

I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe. But Alec would never smile at me again. He would never hug me, never wipe away my tears with his little hands.