The CEO's Mistress Stole My Wedding and Unborn Child

I managed a weak smile as I looked at the sticker on the passenger seat that read, "Audrey's Princess Seat." A quiet laugh escaped me. Last night, as I was recovering from a miscarriage, a friend sent me a TikTok video, commenting, "Maddie, doesn't this car look just like Bentley's?" In the images, Audrey Simmons had her bare feet kicked up on the dashboard, alongside a bouquet of red roses and a diamond ring that sparkled. The captions on the photos boasted: "At 22, only riding in a Mercedes' passenger seat," and "Grateful to the woman who shared countless bus rides with him; thankfully, that’s not my burden."

I had spent ten years with Bentley, saving every penny until we could finally afford a car just before our planned marriage. It was brand new, fresh off the lot yesterday, and this was my first time sitting in it. But one call from Audrey, and Bentley ditched me halfway to pick up our marriage license. The freezing December rain turned everything to ice.

I collapsed at the roadside, watching as dark red blood slowly spread around me, while he was off with his buddy, causing a stir about obtaining the license, and never came back that night. Already drained from heavy bleeding, I felt another trickle. Pale as a ghost, I opened the door and made my way home. Bentley, perhaps feeling guilty, followed me, his head hung low.

"I'm here with you," he muttered, helping me to the sofa, bringing water for my feet, and preparing sliced fruit. His attentiveness was as genuine as ever, though it was hard to see him as the same man who had left me behind the night before. His kindness used to be unwavering. Until he tasted success.

That's when the photos with other women started appearing on my phone. He constantly denied any wrongdoing, dismissing those women as trivial. Yet, the marriage license remained elusive. A woman’s best years don't last forever. Ten years passed in the blink of an eye.

Eventually, I didn’t want it anymore.

In the stillness of night, I lay with my back to him, pain coursing through my abdomen. As the agony became too much to bear, I struggled to my feet to call for a taxi to the hospital.

"What’s wrong? I'll take you," Bentley said, surprisingly alert as he grabbed my coat. Then, his phone started to ring incessantly. He always answered calls on speaker when I was around. Until Audrey’s tearful voice broke the night’s silence, "Darling, I tried to make you a sandwich, but I cut my finger, it's bleeding, I'm really scared."

Bentley's coat slipped from his grip; his expression changed immediately. "Does it hurt? I told you, cooking isn’t your thing! Why try?" he scolded softly. "I’m coming over now, stay put, okay?"

He glanced at me, struggling to read my expression. "Maddie, we just got the marriage license, Audrey's not used to it yet, don't take it to heart, she's just playing around."

"I need to go to the hospital," I repeated, grabbing his sleeve, almost blinded by pain.

He hesitated, but the texts from Audrey were relentless. Her soft cries hit Bentley's heart like gentle rain. Tenderness for her filled his eyes. My attempt to hold him back was met with a rough push as he stormed past.

"Get out of the way!" he snapped, shoving me hard. I crumpled by the wardrobe, a vase crashing into my stomach, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

"Bentley, don’t go," I begged, but he was already out of sight, with only his coat, leaving anger and frustration in his wake.

"Maddie, will you ever quit?" His fury exploded. "Audrey's injured, what are you trying to prove with someone seven or eight years younger?"

"She's hurt because of me," his voice dripped with contempt. "How can you be so heartless, wanting her to bleed out for your satisfaction?"

I was speechless, my breath ragged. He continued, relentless. "It’s not like she stole your bride spot. Another day won’t matter, right? You’ve waited ten years, what’s one more?"

My attempt to stand went unnoticed until he saw the blood pooling beneath me. His eyes flickered with surprise before irritation creased his brow.

"Really? You’d harm yourself just to keep me from leaving? Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed.

"Take the car keys," I interjected, tossing them at him. Bentley stood silent.

Awkwardly, he paused before softly saying, "Wait for me. I’ll be back soon." He hurried out, not even bothering to wear his coat properly.

It was nearly dawn when I regained consciousness, realizing I had been sprawled on the cold floor for an unknown length of time. Blood had soaked my pants, a mix of fear and sorrow gnawing at my heart. I dragged myself to the door, knocking on my neighbor’s door.

"Maddie, oh my God!" was the last thing I heard before blacking out.