Six Years of Devotion, One Final Goodbye

I cut him off sharply: “I don’t care what she’s doing right now—tell her to come to the hospital immediately.”

The line went dead.

I called again, but the phone had been turned off.

The lights in the operating room remained on.

Remembering how my mother-in-law had murmured Celeste’s name before being wheeled in, I clenched my teeth, turned around, and left the hospital quickly. I drove straight to the company.

I didn’t want to see Celeste ever again.

But I couldn’t bear the thought of her mother—possibly on her deathbed—being alone, without her only child by her side.

I went straight to Celeste’s private lounge on the top floor.

When I pushed the door open, I saw her sitting on Damien’s lap, their bodies wrapped around each other intimately.

The moment she saw me, Celeste scrambled off Damien, her expression flustered. “Why are you here?”

I ignored the scene and spoke calmly. “Your mom is in the hospital—she’s in surgery. I came to inform you.”

Celeste frowned. “She was fine. How could she suddenly be hospitalized?”

Then she glanced at me suspiciously. “You didn’t make this up just to trick me into coming back, did you?”

I nearly choked on my anger. “Celeste, do you think I’d joke about your mom’s life?”

She quickly apologized and began gathering her things to leave with me.

But Damien stood up and stopped her.

“You’re not in good health. Hospitals are full of bacteria. I’m worried something might happen to you. Especially now…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but I saw it in his eyes when he looked at her stomach.

In that moment, it felt like the sky collapsed.

Celeste was pregnant.

Pregnant with Damien’s child.

After six years of marriage, she always said it was too soon for children. We used contraception consistently.

And now, she was carrying another man’s baby.

Ha…

I turned to leave without a word.

Celeste rushed over and grabbed my arm. “Don’t misunderstand. Damien’s just worried about my health. I’ll go to the hospital with you.”

“No,” Damien said firmly, his face cold.

Celeste looked between the two of us, hesitated for a brief second, then said, “You go ahead—I’ll come later.”

I looked at her long and hard. “I hope you won’t regret the decision you just made.”

She opened her mouth, perhaps to respond, but I didn’t give her the chance. I turned and left.

Just as the door closed behind me, I faintly heard her wheedling voice:

“Let me go, I promise I’ll be careful. The baby will be fine.”

I couldn’t make out Damien’s reply.

All I heard was Celeste’s coy voice, teasing and soft.

“Hate that!”

She had never spoken to me in that tone.

I drew a deep breath and tilted my head back to stop the tears from falling.

At that moment, I fully understood—my love had truly died.

Ten minutes later, I returned to the hospital.

The doctor met me with grim news: the surgery had failed.

My mother-in-law was gone.

“She’s been bedridden for six years. Her organs had deteriorated badly. Honestly, it’s a miracle she held on this long…”

I didn’t hear the rest of what the doctor said.

I stood there, frozen in place outside the operating room, until her body was pushed out before me.

Snapping out of my daze, I took out my phone.

I didn’t tell Celeste that her mother had passed.

Instead, I sent her the updated divorce agreement.

[We’re getting divorced. You’re free now.]