The Mistress Accused Me of Being the Homewrecker

That afternoon, my mother-in-law came to "persuade" me.

The same old lines—which man doesn't cheat? Men just play outside, it's normal.

She even said the marriage was shaky because I hadn't given them a child.

I had always respected her. But today, I splashed a full cup of coffee across her face.

She shot up in fury. "Are you insane?!"

Yes, I was going insane because Stella had attempted suicide.

Unable to accept that she was the mistress, she swallowed a handful of sleeping pills. She was rescued just in time, barely clinging to life.

Gerald, panicked and heartbroken, dragged me to her hospital bed and forced me to kneel.

"Apologize to Stella!"

"If not for you, she wouldn't have done this!"

"She's two months pregnant—do you have any idea?!"

"You almost killed her!"

His grip was brutal, digging into my shoulders until sharp pain shot down my arms.

My knees pressed against the cold tiled floor.

His voice trembled with rage as he forced the command out.

I pulled my shoulder back stubbornly, but I couldn't break free of his hold.

"I said apologize! Didn't you hear me?!" he thundered.

My silence only enraged him more. His shout startled Stella awake.

Her voice was weak but dripping with grievance. "Stop pretending. No amount of 'sorry' can make up for the pain I've endured... or the child I lost."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Why should I apologize? You two are the ones who wronged me!"

Stella's anger sharpened. "You didn't manage your husband. He lied to me because of you! If it's not your fault, then whose?"

Gerald rushed to her side, heart aching as he comforted her.

"It's my fault and Aliyah's fault. Stella, calm down. Don't get worked up."

He held her like she was a fragile princess, every movement gentle and full of affection.

He used to hold me like that.

Every sweet memory suddenly turned into blades, slicing my heart open piece by piece.

Then—a sharp pain stabbed my lower abdomen.

Warm blood slid down the inside of my thigh.

I gasped and instinctively moved toward the door to call for a doctor.

But Stella pushed Gerald away in a petulant fit.

"Why should I be the only one suffering? We're both your women! Why am I the one losing children, the one going through stomach-pumping misery?!"

Just to appease her outrage, Gerald turned to a bodyguard.

"Give my wife half a bottle of sleeping pills too. Then have the doctors save her."

My mind went blank, thunder exploding in my skull.

Had those words truly come out of his mouth?

"Gerald, I—I'm bleed—"

Before I could finish, the bodyguards forced the pills down my throat and carried me away.

I felt like a fish on a chopping board—completely powerless.

Back inside the ward, Stella scolded him.

"What are you doing?! I didn't tell you to do that!"

"If you want to prove your sincerity, divorce her! That's the attitude you owe me!"

He coaxed her gently.

"Be good. Other than the marriage title, I can give you everything."

Hours later, she finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

Gerald rubbed his temples, lit a cigarette, and headed toward the emergency room.

"What happened to my wife?" he demanded.

The doctor handed him a file—and what he said next would haunt him for the rest of his life.