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

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."


"That's excellent, Ms. Baker! We're thrilled to welcome you!" he responded enthusiastically.


As soon as the call ended, Preston exited the bathroom. His hair was wet, and water droplets still clung to his skin.


He used to spend five minutes showering. Recently, he's been taking at least thirty minutes, always with his phone in hand.


"Who were you speaking to?" he inquired, eyes fixed on his phone.


"I was talking to Mr. Miller," I answered truthfully.


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