When My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Our Child

I was unceremoniously tossed out of the suite by Felix. Inside, I could still hear him professing his love for Daphne Oliver amid the applause of the crowd. Without looking back, I turned and left, leaning against the wall for support.

The next day, a video of me slapping myself surfaced, not only spreading through our company's internal chat but also being leaked online by some spiteful opportunist. The comments underneath were ruthless:

“Is this the twisted hobby of the rich? Absolutely horrifying!”

“Reliable sources say she bullied her coworkers because of her status, and she got what she deserved!”

“Serves her right; she doesn't seem like a decent person at all.”

“A wealthy man's wife, huh? If I were her husband, I'd be looking elsewhere for sure.”

...

Reading those malicious comments, I was certain this was Felix and Daphne's doing. It's been five years, and I still don't know how long Felix's resentment towards me will last. Maybe leaving would be a relief for us both.

After a nearly sleepless night, I felt like my head was splitting, and the swelling on my face hadn't subsided—if anything, it had worsened. Felix barely glanced at my face before he grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside.

“Today is Daphne's first day in her new role, and you’re deliberately trying to embarrass her by being late? Wasn't yesterday's lesson harsh enough?”

He shoved me into the car. As soon as I sat down, I felt a sudden gush of blood. Looking down, I saw that my pants were soaked. I tried nervously to cover the stain, but Felix had already noticed. He frowned slightly.

“Why is there blood? How is the baby?”

I was about to respond when his phone rang—it was Daphne’s special ringtone. As soon as he picked up, I heard Daphne’s tearful voice on the other end:

“Felix, so many people are calling me a homewrecker online. I think I should leave you. I don’t want my parents to suffer disgrace because of me.”

Hearing her sobs, Felix abruptly hit the brakes, stopping the car by the roadside.

“Daphne, don’t cry. Only someone unloved can truly be called a homewrecker,” he said, casting a deliberate glance my way. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this, and soon I’ll propose to you in front of everyone at Thanksgiving, so no one will dare say a word.”

After reassuring her with a few more words, he hung up and turned to me, his eyes carrying an emotion I couldn’t decipher.

“I need you to make a statement online,” he said. “Admit that you came between me and Daphne, that you schemed to marry into the Garcia family.”

I looked out the window, tears long blurring my vision. Yet, mechanically, I nodded.

He was silent for a long moment before speaking again, “If you do this right and stay in line from now on, I won’t purposely make things difficult for you anymore.”

I continued to nod, saying nothing. The car filled with a heavy silence, neither of us speaking another word. Felix always had a way of rekindling the pain in my already desolate heart. This is the man I devoted my love to for years. How laughable...