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When His Mistress Became Pregnant I Divorced Him Novel Cover

When His Mistress Became Pregnant I Divorced Him

Elara’s world shatters after years of loyalty when she learns her billionaire husband, Julian, is having a baby with his mistress. Refusing to endure further betrayal, she reclaims her worth by filing for divorce. As she leaves their empty marriage behind, Elara navigates the public fallout of their split. While Julian grapples with the fallout of his choices, Elara embarks on a transformative journey toward true independence and healing.
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Chapter 2

Two years ago, my mentor suggested I go abroad to further my studies. Initially, I was reluctant, but Easton West persuaded me, saying, "Every woman deserves her own career. Go, and I'll be here waiting when you come back."

My best friend, Diana Oliver, reassured me, "I know you're worried about Easton. I'll keep an eye on him for you, make sure he doesn't stray."

Little did I know, Easton wasn't distracted by anyone else; his focus was entirely on her.

Returning home, Easton was already in the living room, the air heavy with cigarette smoke. I slipped on my house shoes, leaving my suitcase by the door. With a somber look, Easton turned to me and said, "About Diana, don't fault her; this is all on me.

"I know she's your best friend, and I shouldn't have let myself fall for her, but you can't control love; it finds you against all odds. I followed my heart.

"Vera, we've grown too familiar, almost to the point of complacency. But Diana is different. She's like a breath of fresh air, invigorating and brimming with life. I've wronged you, and if you despise me for it, I understand, but I can't let her go.

"She doesn't care about status; she just wants a child with me. She's given up so much, and I can't let her down.

"You were away for two years, focused entirely on your career. I faced loneliness and challenges here alone, and Diana was my support. I've fallen for her, and that's why things turned out the way they did."

He recounted their romance like a melodrama, and with each word, my heart crumbled. Diana made him feel alive and essential, and what did that leave me with? What was our five-year marriage worth?

At the start of his company, when he had nothing, I was by his side, living in a dreary basement, eating the cheapest salads and pasta. I'd make him soup to sober him up after nights of drinking. During the hardest times, I sold the house my parents left me, giving him all the funds to keep his business afloat.

For three years, we endured those struggles. His company barely turned a profit, and I supported it with my salary and earnings from side gigs. I avoided hospitals when ill, fearing the costs, and toughed it out alone.

Because I was tirelessly working and juggling multiple jobs, my meals were erratic, leading to serious stomach issues. But I never mentioned it to Easton. Now, his company was thriving, and Diana, using my connections, had become his assistant. After I went abroad, she stayed by his side, helping him through his challenges.

All my sacrifices evaporated like smoke, forgotten by him. His so-called difficulties were mere loneliness, which Diana's companionship erased, making him feel as if he had everything.

I regarded him coldly, my heart turning to ice, "Easton, we've been together for nine years—four years dating and five years married. Do Diana's two years with you outweigh all that? Does your new love invalidate everything we've had?"

My studies abroad demanded two years. I worked diligently to finish my courses and research ahead of schedule, yearning to return to him swiftly. But now, all my efforts felt pointless, a joke at my expense. I was the one striving while he and Diana looked on in amusement.

Easton stubbed out his cigarette and opened the window. The icy breeze chilled me as he explained, "Diana is pregnant; she can't stand the smoke. I'm trying to air it out."

He turned back to me, serious, "My feelings for you now are more like family than romance. Vera, let's end this. Two years is enough to change a lot. I don't want to deceive you any longer; it's time we went our separate ways."

"We should separate." He said this so casually, while my heart shattered. With those few words, he dismissed years of our shared life.

His phone rang, and he answered it. I could hear the voice on the other end, "Honey, when are you coming back? The baby wants some ravioli. Could you bring a bowl when you return?"

"If it's a bad time, and Vera needs you, stay with her. Talk it through; I can handle things here." The words were considerate, careful, almost tentative.

Easton replied gently, "I'm headed back now. I'll definitely bring you and the baby some ravioli. Don't worry too much."

His tenderness was something I hadn't witnessed in ages, expressions once reserved for me now offered to another woman.

Clutching my aching stomach, I remembered the joy of coming home. I hadn't eaten on the flight, and now the pain was unbearable. With my face pale, I sank onto the sofa, unable to speak through the agony.

Easton looked at me, his brow furrowed, "Vera, this vulnerable act doesn't suit you. Diana's pregnant and she needs me by her side. Don't think playing the victim will keep me here; there's no need.

"Even if I stayed tonight, nothing would change. I won't touch you, nor will I betray Diana.

"Consider the mistakes mine. Set the terms for our divorce, and let me know when you're ready. But don't bother Diana; she's fragile and can't handle stress right now.

"I hope we can part amicably."

I rolled my eyes, speechless, as he left. A cheating man isn't worth the loyalty of even a dog.

Easton departed hurriedly, as if desperate to escape. Before the door closed, I heard him talking on the phone while waiting for the elevator, "I'm coming down now. Don't be jealous. I promised I'd be with you, not her. I always keep my promises, silly."

To say I wasn't hurt would be a lie. The empty house echoed memories of what once was.

All night, I held back my tears until they finally flowed. Yes, it was painful.

If Easton had cheated with anyone else, it might not have hurt as much. But why Diana? Why my best friend? It felt like a dagger plunged into my chest, only to be driven deeper by a trusted hand.

With my stomach in knots and cold sweat covering me, I shakily dialed Judah Carpenter, a fellow who had returned to the country with me, "Judah, help me," I whispered before darkness overwhelmed me.

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