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When My Husband Chose His Mistress Novel Cover

When My Husband Chose His Mistress

While in active labor, a desperate woman is abandoned by her husband, Elijah, who maliciously convinces bystanders and paramedics that she is a mentally unstable scam artist. As she writhes in pain, Elijah reveals a devastating betrayal: he got her younger sister pregnant, and he is delaying his wife's medical care so his mistress can deliver first. Blaming his wife for exposing their past affair, he demands this agonizing delay as atonement. Pushed to the brink of despair, she decides to pay him back with two lives.
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Chapter 1

May Day holiday. I was on my way to the airport when my water broke.

The pain split me open. I screamed at strangers, voice raw and cracking, begging someone—anyone—to help.

Someone flagged down a taxi for me and was about to help me in when my husband arrived and blocked them with an outstretched arm.

"My wife's a known scam artist—stages accidents for payouts. The last person who helped her got hit for five hundred thousand!"

The passerby yanked their hands back. The taxi driver refused to take me.

I had no strength left to explain. All I could do was dial emergency services with trembling fingers.

But when the ambulance arrived, Elijah stepped forward with a cold smile.

"My wife's in her third trimester. She leaks urine constantly and convinces herself every time that her water's broken."

"She's got serious mental problems. Doesn't matter what the doctors tell her—she'll swear the hospital's trying to scam her out of money."

"Take her in and you won't get paid. Not a cent. And then she'll turn around and report you to the police, file a lawsuit on top of it."

The paramedics left cursing under their breath.

I was drowning in despair. Elijah watched me with a perfectly calm face.

"Your younger sister is pregnant. The child is mine."

"Her due date is today. I promised her that her baby would be born first."

"Just hold on a little longer. Once she's delivered, I'll arrange your surgery right away."

Tears blurred the edges of my vision. He patted my cheek, light and easy, the way you'd quiet something small.

"If you want someone to blame, blame yourself. All I did was kiss her once when I was drunk, and you made sure the whole world knew about it."

"She married some random man out of spite, and the bastard beat her until she miscarried."

"You owe her a life. Making you wait and deliver a little later is just helping you atone."

I stared into those indifferent eyes, and something bitter twisted across my mouth.

Elijah, since you say I'm guilty, I wonder if paying you back with two lives will be enough.

……

Another wave of agony tore through my lower belly. I collapsed to my knees and couldn't stop the wail that ripped out of me.

Elijah looked down at me. There was reluctance in his eyes, even a flicker of something like heartache, but not a trace of guilt.

The crowd had long since scattered. I looked up, helpless, every word shaking out of me.

"Elijah, please. Take me to the hospital first."

The pain made me claw at his pant leg with blood-stained fingertips, desperate, gripping with everything I had.

He lifted his foot and kicked my hand away, stepping back with open disgust on his face.

"I promised Fay I'd be there for her delivery in person. There'll be a professional team documenting it for us. She won't be happy if I show up with dirty pants."

Blood was everywhere between my legs. Amniotic fluid pooled on the ground beneath me.

None of it registered for Elijah.

All he cared about was whether he'd look decent enough at Fay's side when she gave birth.

He didn't care about me. He didn't care about the child inside me.

Then what were those ten years I spent building a life with him from nothing, tasting every bitterness this world had to offer?

I was shaking, trying to scream the question at him, but the contractions dragged me under and I was rolling on the ground, unable to form a single word.

Elijah checked his watch. A smile crept across his lips.

"Fay should be delivering any minute now. Go home. I'll come get you once I'm done."

The pain was dragging my consciousness under. I bit through the soft flesh of my tongue just to stay present, my voice barely a trembling plea.

"Elijah, my water broke. If I don't get to a hospital now, the baby will die."

He leaned down and ran his hand over my hair—offhand, idle, the way you'd pet a stray dog.

"Don't worry. I won't abandon you. You're the real Mrs. Gilbert, after all, and the woman I love most."

"But debts have to be repaid. You atone like this—you feel the pain—and that's how you learn. Next time you won't use your position to bully a young girl."

"I've already sent the family doctor to wait for you at the villa. You and the baby will be fine. A little pain, that's all."

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