My Husband Used Our Newborn’s Blood To Save His Mistress

He gently laid Alaina down on the couch, while the housekeeper and nanny kept me and Karina on the carpet.

He urgently called the doctor to draw my blood.

But the doctor, after checking my condition, furrowed his brows:

"Mr. Moore, your wife has just given birth and is very weak; taking this much blood might endanger her life!"

"What about the child? She also has a rare blood type..."

Trembling, I looked at him: "No!"

The doctor shook his head: "The child is too small, Mr. Moore, and actually, the blood from the blood bank would work just fine for Ms. Butler."

Roger hesitated for a moment.

Alaina tightened her grip on his hand and shook her head: "Roger, if it's blood from the blood bank, you might as well let me die..."

Without further hesitation, he said, "Do it."

I said calmly, "Go ahead, but after this, let's finalize the divorce."

Anger flashed across his face, "It's just a blood draw! You're not going to die, why are you being so dramatic?"

I held Karina close and closed my eyes, feeling no emotional turmoil.

The pain brought a harsh clarity to my mind.

After the blood was drawn, I wobbled, nearly fainting.

Roger carried Alaina to the bedroom for the transfusion.

Unable to hold on any longer, I passed out.

When I woke up, the hospital's antiseptic smell was overwhelming; I quickly looked for my child.

Seeing Karina peacefully asleep beside me, I sighed in relief.

Roger came in carrying supplies, exhaustion written across his face.

Seeing me awake, he returned to his previous cold demeanor.

"See, you're not dead, right? The doctor said you need to gain weight."

I nodded quietly, "Got it."

He handed me a bowl of chicken broth, rich and creamy.

"You always liked the broth I make when you're sick. I couldn't get your favorite chicken, so I used something else."

I didn't let him feed me; instead, I drank several mouthfuls on my own.

His face relaxed as he got up to fetch me water.

Seeing dozens of missed calls on my phone made my heart race.

Just then, another call came in.

I was about to hang up when Roger stood at the door with the water, watching me coldly:

"Who is it?"

He used to be indifferent to these things, but now he was acting strangely.

I looked up with indifference.

"A spam call, about loans. Roger, I've been sick and broke, maybe you could lend me some money?"

His eyes flashed with anger as he grabbed my neck.

"Meredith, how long are you going to keep deceiving me? Joking about a terminal illness, is that funny?"

"Without my say-so, don't even think about dying! I won't allow it!"

Roger rarely behaved so domineeringly toward me; it was one of the few moments I could feel he cared for me.

But now, his phone kept buzzing with notifications.

He released me, picked up the phone, and his expression softened significantly before he quickly left the room.

With a hint of excitement, I switched to the other system on my phone and sent a message to that person.

Roger might check my phone, but he didn't know about my dual system.

"Meredith, why haven't I been able to reach you? Do you not want to come?"

"Unexpected issues, I'm still in the hospital."

"What? Has your condition worsened? I can’t leave, but I’ll send a doctor over right away!"

"No need! I can still hold on. I'll come by in a week."

Sensing Roger about to come in, I switched back to the other system, maintaining a blank expression.

Seeing my clear, focused gaze disturbed him, as if something unsettling was creeping into his chest.

He reached over, took my phone, and saw the cancer warning on the screen. He angrily tossed the phone onto the bed.

"Meredith, stop playing these games! I'll give you two days to think about where you went wrong!"