ManyWriters

I had just entered the house, clutching the pregnancy report I'd spent five years working towards, when I caught sight of my husband guiding his young female assistant into the nursery.
Holly Winter wrung her hands, bowed her head, and began to weep, intentionally showing the red marks on her neck.
"Alex, I have nowhere to go. Please allow Mr. Thornton to take me in," she begged.
Darrell Thornton grasped her hand, his voice sharp and defensive as he addressed me.
"She's the promising student you supported. She's freshly graduated and can't afford rent. You're a mature woman—don't make a big deal out of helping a young girl."
He gave me a cold look.
"Moreover, you're unable to bear children. We have plenty of spare rooms. What's the harm in letting her stay temporarily?"
I watched silently as he transformed the nursery we had prepared into her bedroom.
With a deep sigh, I made a phone call.
"Mom, is it too late for me to accept your previous conditions and return home?"

Nursery Becomes Mistress's Bedroom

"Your cruelty astounds me!" I exclaimed.


I hesitated briefly before consuming another spoonful of rice.


"How was I supposed to know?" I inquired, my eyebrow arching.


"It should have been obvious," he retorted.


"Why did she consume it if she was aware?"


Darrell was momentarily speechless, caught off guard.


"She had mentioned it to me previously, and I recalled," he eventually confessed.


"I'm done talking. I need to rush her to the emergency room right away."


"You prepared this meal. Any harm that befalls her will be your responsibility!"


Without awaiting a response, he scooped up Holly and dashed out.


The attorney had emailed the divorce papers to me early that day. I printed and signed them without hesitation.


I kept gazing at the ultrasound image on the medical report—an unborn baby.


I placed the agreement and medical documents in a prominent position on the table.


Reflecting on the past eight years, I left with nothing.


8#08