When the debt collectors attacked, I stood in front of Clara and took the blows meant for her. Three ribs broken, internal injuries—pain pained nearly killed me. When the doctor later said my fertility might be impaired, Clara cried, held me tightly, and swore she would never leave.
I refused to surrender. Once our company recovered, I began treatment, step by step, with hope. Three years ago, the doctor told us I had made real progress. Clara and I were overjoyed, and soon after, she became pregnant—twins. I couldn’t sleep that night. I held her in my arms, tears streaming down my face, thanking heaven for finally granting us a miracle.
Now, facing her cold and determined eyes, my gaze fell to her belly. That same belly that once carried my dreams now felt like a knife to my heart. My throat tightened, tears blurring my sight.
“Clara,” I rasped, “that’s the child I’ve waited ten years for. Don’t you think it’s cruel to destroy them?”
For a moment, guilt flickered in her eyes. Then she looked away. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m doing this for Felix. I don’t want him to die with regrets.”
She hesitated, then continued, “Your sperm quality isn’t good. Even if this baby is born, it might have problems. Felix is young, healthy. If he fathers a child, that child will have a better future—a higher IQ, maybe even brilliance.”
I gave a bitter smile. “So, in your heart, I’m defective. And you think my child would be too.”
I took a trembling breath. “If it were just about having a child, we could have found a surrogate. Why kill mine? Or did you just want to make me a living cuckold?”
Her face flushed red. “ Ethan, how can you speak like that? What do you mean by ‘cuckold’? Felix’s child is a blessing—no one else deserves it! I told you, we did it only for the baby. At that moment, I... I was still thinking of you!”
The room fell into uneasy silence. Our friends and relatives looked away, coughing awkwardly. One by one, they excused themselves, muttering half-hearted comfort before leaving.
Clara straightened her coat and said quietly, “ Ethan, I know you’re hurt. But I’m doing this for the future. Only with the best child can the Lynn Group truly thrive. Think it over.”
Then she walked out, closing the door behind her.
I collapsed onto the sofa, hollow and numb.
Moments later, my phone buzzed with a message from a friend. Clara had gone to the hospital. Felix Shane was by her side during the procedure, feeding her chicken soup afterward. In the photo, she leaned weakly against him, pale but content, sipping from the spoon he held.
My vision blurred as I stared at the attached image—the abortion slip. My heart plunged into ice. I had endured debt, humiliation, and her pain, but I could not protect the life we had waited a decade for.
I took a deep breath, dialed a number. “Victor James,” I said steadily, “I’ll take your offer. I’ll handle your overseas expansion—and I won’t be coming back.”
That night, I packed my things, printed the divorce papers, and went to the hospital. When I opened the door, I saw them—Clara resting in Felix’s arms, their smiles freezing when they saw me.
I didn’t shout or curse. I simply handed her the papers. “Sign it.”
Her hands trembled. “ Ethan… you really want a divorce?”
Her voice rose with anger. “We’ve suffered and fought for ten years! Is it all a joke to you? Can’t you understand me, just once?”
She tore the papers apart and threw them at me, sobbing.
I stood there silently, watching her cry in another man’s arms. The woman who once swore to love me forever had finally broken every promise she made.
