The Day I Started My Revenge

I found out my husband was cheating while I was lying in a hospital bed, bleeding out our unborn daughter.

The doctor was talking, but his voice sounded far away, like he was standing underwater.

“We couldn’t save the baby.”

My fingers tightened around the blanket automatically.

My girl.

The words repeated in my head, numb and slow.

Outside the emergency room curtain, nurses pushed carts down the hallway. Someone was crying two rooms away. Machines beeped steadily beside me while pain crawled through my stomach in waves sharp enough to make me shake.

The accident replayed in flashes every time I closed my eyes.

The screaming brakes.

The steering wheel crushing into my abdomen.

Then darkness.

“You were already pregnant before the crash,” the doctor continued carefully. “The trauma caused severe internal bleeding.”

I stared at the ceiling without blinking.

Pregnant.

I hadn’t even known.

Not until after I lost her.

My throat hurt suddenly. “My husband…”

The doctor hesitated.

“We need a family member to sign the surgery consent form immediately.”

I grabbed my phone beside the bed with trembling fingers.

Ethan.

My husband.

My first call rang twice before being rejected.

The second went unanswered.

By the fifth call, my hands were shaking badly enough that I nearly dropped the phone.

By the ninth, the nurse beside me looked at me with pity.

By the thirteenth—

the line connected for half a second before abruptly ending again.

I stared at the screen.

No answer. Nothing.

What I didn’t know was that at the exact moment I was bleeding in a hospital bed, Ethan was in another woman’s bed.

I only learned that later.

At the time, I still believed maybe he was busy.

Maybe he hadn’t heard the phone.

Maybe—

“Miss?”

The nurse’s voice softened. “We really can’t wait any longer.”

I closed my eyes.

There was only one person left to call.

My mother.

We hadn’t spoken properly in years.

Not since I chose Ethan over her.

Not since I told her love mattered more than money, career, or pride.

Not since I accused her of abandoning our family for work after she divorced my father.

Back then, she gave my father most of her assets during the divorce and walked away cleanly. I thought she was cold. Ruthless.

I chose my father.

Then after he died, I inherited everything he left behind.

And I gave all of it to Ethan after we married.

Every cent.

I called her anyway.

The phone rang once.

“What happened?”

The moment I heard her voice, I started crying.

Not loudly.

Just silently.

Like something inside me finally cracked open.

Three hours later, my mother arrived at the hospital in a black coat, heels clicking sharply against the floor.

She looked exactly the same as I remembered.

Cold.

Elegant.

Her eyes landed on me lying in the bed, pale and covered in blood stains.

Then her jaw tightened.

“What did I tell you?” she said quietly.

I couldn’t answer.

“I warned you years ago.” Her voice became harsher. “A man who needs your money to build his future will destroy yours eventually.”

“Mom…”

“You chose him anyway.”

The doctor handed her the surgery papers carefully.

“There’s another complication,” he explained. “The damage from the accident and hemorrhaging is severe. Even after surgery… it’s very unlikely she’ll be able to conceive again.”

Silence.

I stopped breathing for a second.

My mother signed the papers without hesitation.

Then she looked at me.

“This,” she said coldly, “is the ending you chose for yourself.”

The surgery lasted four hours.

When I woke again, the emptiness inside my body felt unbearable.

Like someone had hollowed me out completely.

Not just the baby.

Everything.

Three days later, I was discharged.

The winter air outside the hospital was freezing against my skin as I walked slowly toward the entrance.

Then I saw Ethan.

Relief hit me instantly.

It disappeared just as fast.

Because standing beside him was a beautiful woman wearing his coat.

And beside them—

my son.

My eight-year-old son ran straight past me toward the woman.

“Auntie Lily!”

She smiled gently and rubbed his hair.

Ethan didn’t even try to hide it.

I looked at him numbly. “What is this?”

Ethan sighed like he was already tired of the conversation.

“You know exactly what this is.”

The woman lowered her head slightly. “I’m sorry…”

Sorry?

I nearly laughed.

“You were sleeping with her while I was in the hospital.”

Ethan’s expression didn’t change.

“So?”

The word hit harder than the accident.

“So?” My voice cracked. “Our daughter died.”

For the first time, something flickered in his eyes.

But it vanished quickly.

“You can’t keep acting dramatic forever.”

I stared at him.

Dramatic?

My son suddenly frowned at me.

“Mom, why are you yelling again?”

Like I was the problem.

Ethan adjusted his cuffs calmly. “Lily is pregnant.”

The world froze.

“She’ll be staying with us from now on.”

I looked between them slowly.

Then at my son standing beside her protectively.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You brought your mistress and her child to see me after I lost mine?”

Ethan’s voice turned colder. “You should learn to accept reality.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then divorce me and leave with nothing.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Nothing? Everything you own came from me.”

That finally annoyed him.

“You handed it over willingly,” he snapped. “You stay home every day spending my money while I work. What exactly are you dissatisfied with?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

My son suddenly spoke up.

“Auntie Lily is prettier than you anyway.”

The words were childish.

But they cut deepest.

“And she’s nicer,” he continued. “You only scold me all the time.”

Something inside me broke completely.

I looked at the woman smiling weakly behind Ethan and suddenly lunged toward her.

“You ruined my family—”

Before I could touch her, Ethan shoved me violently backward.

I had just left the hospital.

My stitches tore instantly as I hit the ground.

Pain exploded through my abdomen.

I gasped.

Ethan immediately turned toward Lily protectively. “Are you okay?”

My son rushed over too.

Then—

he kicked me.

Not hard.

But enough.

“You’re bad!” he shouted angrily. “Don’t hurt Auntie Lily!”

I stared up at my child from the freezing pavement.

The son I nearly died giving birth to.

The son who chose another woman over me.

Blood slowly stained my clothes again.

But Ethan only looked down at me coldly.

“You brought this on yourself.”

Then he turned away.

Taking his mistress.

Taking my son.

Leaving me alone outside the hospital like garbage.