The Day My Husband Killed My Baby, I was Done

Tricia’s cries pierced through the air. She lay at the bottom of the stairs, her small body curled up, her arms clutching her leg. The stairs weren’t long, but she was fragile—too delicate for even the smallest fall.

Bruises were already forming on her pale skin. Elijah rushed past me, scooping her up in his arms. His face twisted in panic, then fury.

“What is wrong with you?” His voice was sharp, cutting.

I stepped back. “I didn’t do anything!”

Beatrice was already there, her hand over her mouth in mock horror. “I saw it,” she gasped. “She pushed Tricia!”

I shook my head. “No, I—”

“Tricia.” Elijah’s voice softened as he turned to the child in his arms. “Tell me what happened, sweetheart.”

Tricia hiccupped between sobs, her small fingers clutching at his shirt.

“She… she pushed me.” Her voice was small, broken. “Mommy, she pushed me!”

A knife to the chest. I felt the world spin as Elijah’s expression darkened.

“You’re a monster,” he growled.

I took another step back. “Elijah, you know me. I would never hurt a child.”

But he wasn’t listening. His grip on me was rough as he shoved me back. My heel caught on the floor, and I stumbled, barely catching myself.

“If anything happens to Tricia,” he said, his voice low, dangerous, “you will pay for it.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t fight.

I just stood there, watching as he carried Tricia out the door. Beatrice followed, casting me one last smirk before stepping into the car.

And then they were gone. Leaving me alone. I stared at the empty hallway, at the silence they left behind.

But I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t angry.

I was done. This was the last straw.

The next morning, my phone buzzed.

Divorced papers finalized. Only need Elijah's signature.

I stared at the message for a long time, my fingers tightening around the phone.

It was done.

I exhaled slowly, feeling lighter than I had in years. The weight of my broken marriage, the lies, the betrayal—it should have crushed me. But it didn’t.

I arrived at the hospital with only one goal—hand Elijah the divorce papers and walk away forever.

I found him standing outside Tricia’s room, his arms crossed as he talked to Beatrice. The moment his eyes landed on me, they darkened.

“What are you doing here?” he asked coldly.

I pulled the envelope from my bag and held it out to him. “I came to give you this.”

He barely glanced at it. “What is it?”

I let out a dry laugh. “Don’t play dumb. It’s the divorce papers.”

For a moment, he just stared at them. Then, without warning, he shoved the envelope back at me, making me stumble a step backward.

“I’m not signing that.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I said I’m not giving you a divorce.”

My stomach twisted. “Why?”

His lips curled, his voice low. “For one reason—I want to make you miserable.”

I felt the air leave my lungs.

Elijah stepped closer, his eyes burning with something cruel. “You don’t get to walk away, Victoria. You don’t get to escape this.”

A slow, mocking smirk tugged at his lips. “No divorce.”

I clenched my fists. “Why does it even matter? You already have a life with her.” My voice trembled, but I refused to back down. “You have a daughter. You have everything you wanted. Why are you still holding onto me?”

“Because you should suffer,” he said simply. “And because you still have to pay for what happened to Tricia.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “You’re unbelievable.”

Elijah just shrugged. “It’s what you deserve.”

I felt my entire body shake with rage.

That was it.

That was my breaking point.

I took a step back, my grip tightening around my phone.

Fine. If he wouldn’t let me go, I would take something from him first.

I turned away, walking down the hallway, dialing the number I had memorized by heart.

The line clicked.

“It’s time,” I said.

The voice on the other end didn’t hesitate. “Understood.”

Later that night, while Elijah and Beatrice were gone, someone would take Tricia.

Not just take her—disappear with her.

I had paid well. Hired the best. No traces, no leads. Just an empty bed and an unanswered question that would drive them mad.

Their world would shatter—

Just like they had shattered mine.