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The Widowed First Love and the Unfaithful Husband Novel Cover

The Widowed First Love and the Unfaithful Husband

While Grace Lewis is suffering a devastating miscarriage at eighteen weeks, her husband of seven years, Brian Graham, is comforting his first love, Jessica Clark. After Jessica posts a newborn photo featuring Brian's silhouette, a desperate Grace calls him before surgery. Instead of support, Brian mockingly dismisses her pain as jealousy and demands she show understanding for the single mother. As Brian celebrates a new family, Grace is left alone to watch her own baby turn to ashes.
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Chapter 1

On the day of my miscarriage, Brian's unforgettable first love Jessica Clark posted a baby photo on Instagram.

Caption: [Thank you for accompanying me through all the dark days. From now on, our family of three will always be happy!]

The silhouette inadvertently revealed in the photo is Brian Graham, my husband who has slept with me for seven years.

Before entering the operating room, I called Brian, but all I got was his unreserved humiliation.

"Grace Lewis, you are already 18 weeks pregnant. The fetus is already stable. How could something happen? Stop making trouble."

"Jessica is a single mother. It's not easy for her to raise a child. As a mother, can't you show some understanding and not ruin everyone's mood by being jealous at this time?"

They were busy sharing the joy of the arrival of the newborn on Instagram, but on this day, my baby turned into a small handful of ashes.

——

Touching my suddenly flat belly, I couldn't come back to my senses for a long time.

I pulled out the needle and went home alone.

The furnishings in the house were still the same, and Brian hasn't come back.

I stumbled and opened the door to the baby's room, holding those tiny clothes and curling up in the corner.

At this time, they should be playing with the baby and making him laugh, right?

Brian, who never posts on Instagram, even updated a post.

In addition to the baby, the picture also showed a large urine stain on the front of the suit.

[Thank you for the first gift from the baby!]

That suit is Brian's favorite, and he only wears it on important occasions.

I touched the urn containing the baby's ashes, but my vision blurred and I couldn't focus.

My phone rang, it was Brian calling.

"Is your stomach still hurting?"

"No, it's not hurting anymore."

"Hmm... I consulted Jessica at the confinement center and she said the stomachache might be because you just felt fetal movement and it will take some time to adapt. It's not a big deal."

It turns out that when I had a miscarriage and cried in despair, in Brian's eyes, it was just "not a big deal".

The confinement center is only ten minutes away from home, and he didn't even want to leave for a moment to come back and see me.

Grace, this is the man you insisted on marrying in the first place. I thought.

This is your retribution.

I didn't want to argue with him anymore and hung up the phone.

Less than a minute later, Brian called again.

"Grace, I did explain the reason to you. What's with your childish temper?"

"Quickly prepare the things according to the text message I sent you and bring them over."

He ended the call in a commanding tone.

Brian always does this, demanding me at his command.

But in these seven years, I have also been happily immersed in it.

Because he assured me that his concern for Jessica was based on years of friendship and sympathy for Jessica becoming a single mother.

He assured me that I am the only person he loves.

But what is the reality?

During the ten days I was in the hospital for a threatened miscarriage, he said he was busy and not available to visit me.

But he could go back and forth to Jessica's place for three meals a day for three consecutive months.

When I was alone in the hospital and fainted due to low blood sugar during a prenatal check-up, he said he couldn't get away because of a business trip.

But at the same time, he could drive back from another province just to listen to the baby's heartbeat during Jessica's prenatal check-up.

Even when I was lying in the cold operating room of the hospital, enduring the pain of losing a child, he was still texting me, asking me to send clothes to Jessica's baby.

Everything is my own fault.

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