My Husband's Regret After Letting Me Go

It became painfully clear that Jalen had always believed the pregnancy test list I sent him was a fabrication, a desperate attempt to manipulate him into coming home. He was convinced that I had orchestrated the entire situation to get his attention and have him by my side.

The truth was far different. I hadn't faked the pregnancy test, nor had I staged any elaborate schemes. The package that was sent in my name was not sent by me. I had no part in its contents or the disturbing messages it carried.

Jara’s accident, too, was beyond my control. I had no involvement in what happened to her. Yet, the shadow of blame and suspicion fell upon me, and I found myself unjustly accused and hated for things I never did. The chasm between us had grown so wide, and the misunderstandings so deep, that it felt almost insurmountable.

That day at the hospital was a turning point I never anticipated. When I ran into Jara, her reaction to the news of my pregnancy was far from the joy I expected. Instead of happiness, she was consumed by jealousy and resentment. She immediately tried to coerce me into having an abortion, but I stood my ground and refused to comply.

Our confrontation escalated quickly. As we struggled, Jalen arrived just in time to witness Jara falling down the stairs, injuring her hand in the process. His reaction was swift and fierce—he cradled Jara and glared at me with an intensity that was both terrifying and heartbreaking.

"Pray that Jara is okay," he warned me coldly. The threat hanging in the air was clear, even if he didn’t finish his sentence. The venom in his words cut deep, leaving me feeling both wounded and powerless.

Despite my attempts to explain, Jalen’s anger was implacable. I showed him the pregnancy report, but he glanced at it dismissively before tearing it into shreds. His eyes, filled with a toxic mixture of rage and contempt, told me everything I needed to know about his feelings toward me.

“Jara may never hold a scalpel again because of you. Why didn’t you fall down the stairs instead?” His words stung with bitter resentment. No matter how much I tried to explain, his mind was made up. His hatred for me was solidified, fueled entirely by Jara's skewed narrative.

After taking Jara home, Jalen returned to the police station with renewed focus, burying himself in work as if trying to escape the turmoil at home.

Captain Leon and the senior criminal investigators worked tirelessly through the night, sifting through files in hopes of finding any leads on similar murder methods. Their efforts, however, yielded no significant results, and the light of hope in their eyes dimmed with each passing hour.

Frustrated, Captain Leon scratched his head and muttered, "We’ve gone through the old files and checked recent missing persons reports, but there’s still nothing. Given that the victim was a young, pregnant woman, it’s baffling that no one has come forward to report her missing after all this time."

A female police officer, her voice tinged with bitterness, added, "His wife is pregnant and missing, and the husband doesn’t even seem to know or care. What a disgraceful scumbag."

Jalen, overhearing the remark, sneezed suddenly, as if the words struck him like a physical blow.

A bitter smile crossed my face as I listened from where I stood. The female officer’s words rang true, serving as a harsh reflection of the situation. If anyone could express the disdain that was directed at Jalen and the whole mess, it was her.

"The main issue is that the body parts are still incomplete, and we have no idea when the remaining parts will surface. Plus, the surveillance footage didn't capture the suspect's face. How are we supposed to investigate this?" Captain Leon voiced his frustration.

Jalen, in a moment of clarity, suggested, "The deceased was pregnant. Her husband must have accompanied her to the prenatal checkup. We should check the hospital's prenatal records."

Captain Leon's eyes widened in realization. He slapped his thigh with renewed determination. "Jalen, you’re right. Team One will go with me to investigate the prenatal checkup records at the hospital. Team Two will follow up on the list of pregnant women from the hospital to see if any are missing."

He turned to Jalen, his tone filled with concern, "Are you sure Siara was lying about her pregnancy? Has she reached out to you recently? You haven’t been home in months. Maybe you should go back and check on her."

Jalen’s face darkened, his irritation palpable. "She’s a liar. If she were really pregnant, wouldn’t I know about it?"

He scoffed, "On Jara’s birthday, she sent me some irrelevant numbers. She’s been trying to win favor through deceit."

The anger within me flared uncontrollably. I wanted to lash out, but the rage was choking me. My fingers clenched into fists, trembling as I fought to keep my composure. I had made it clear to him about my pregnancy, but he refused to believe me. The deep sense of betrayal and hurt was overwhelming.

He even went so far as to tear up my pregnancy test report. Desperate to prove the truth, I begged the hospital doctor to call him. Yet, he only accused me of staging the situation, hiring actors to deceive him, and treating him as a fool. No matter what I did, it seemed to be wrong in his eyes.

Captain Leon watched Jalen leaving and muttered softly, “You will regret this one day.”

Jalen, visibly agitated, lit a cigarette and toggled his phone on and off. The screen displayed the last message I sent him—three simple numbers: 115.

As he stared at those numbers, memories of the past flooded back. When we first started dating, he had asked me, "Siara, you mentioned that Morse code is known by everyone, including criminals. What if you, as my family, are in danger?"

"I want us to have a code," he said. "1 means help, 0 means safety, 5 means me. If you ever need help, just send me this code. No matter where you are, I, Jalen, will protect you for life..."

This was the only distress signal I had left. Yet now, as he looked at the message with cold indifference, it felt like my last lifeline was being cut off. Maybe he had forgotten. Forgotten the oaths and promises he once made. The person who vowed to protect me for a lifetime now seemed to want me gone.