ManyWriters

I was driving when a tragic accident took my unborn child. Preston happened to pass by with his female colleague in the car. He noticed my blood-stained white dress, blocked his assistant's view, and coldly remarked, "Tough luck. Don't look." Then he drove away quickly.
That evening, while in our bedroom, I discovered an unfamiliar lace bra tucked away in our wardrobe—certainly not mine. I shut the closet and calmly phoned someone. "Mr. Miller, I've decided. I can relocate and start at your firm next week."

Betrayed and Bleeding, From Devoted Wife to Determined Escapee

As I reflected on the contrast between Preston's treatment of his assistant and his romantic partner, I accidentally dropped my utensil. My hands shook as I leaned down to retrieve it.


Upon rising, I noticed Preston at the doorway, prepared to depart. Without turning back, he casually remarked, "An emergency arose at work. I'll drive you next occasion," before hastily exiting.


Thirty minutes later, I hobbled into my workspace. Oddly, my coworkers regarded me with a blend of pity and worry.


Subsequently, while refilling my cup in the break area, I inadvertently overheard two colleagues' hushed conversation.


"Is it accurate—Mr. Sloan actually abandoned Olivia for his female aide?" one inquired.


"Indeed! You should've witnessed it earlier today! Penelope arrived with a minor blemish on her outfit, and Mr. Sloan lifted her in front of everyone during the meeting," the other responded.


2#02