He chose her over me_ now he wants me back

Mia's Point of View

"Did you get the text I sent you? Jasmine hasn't had the best appetite lately. Make sure you find out her favorite meals and prepare them," my husband, Robert Wood, said as he walked into our living room.

His heavily pregnant mistress, Jasmine, was clinging onto him as if he were her lifeline.

"And fix that ugly face of yours. Don't ruin her mood and affect the baby!" he snapped at me when he noticed my sullen expression. "Now that she is in her second trimester, her body is fragile, and she needs a more conducive room to rest. You'll pack your things and move to the guest room," he added, leaving no room for arguments.

I can't believe he's doing this right now. It's our sixth wedding anniversary, and instead of spending it with me, he decided to bring his mistress and her mother home.

"What are you still waiting for? Go and pack your things," he said.

Without bothering to respond, I picked up my suitcase that I had already prepared and walked toward the door.

"Ma'am, you..." our housekeeper tried to stop me, but Robert's loud, mocking laugh stopped her.

"Don't stop her. Let her leave if she wants. She'll come back before the end of today and beg me to accept her back," he said.

Immediately after he said that, Jasmine and her mother roared with laughter. They began making bets on how long it would take for me to come back.

If only they knew I'm serious this time. A cab was already waiting outside, and I'm not coming back once I walk past this door.

> > >

Just as I made it to the door, Robert called me back.

"I heard you have a dreamcatcher. How about you leave it behind?"

"Why?" I found myself asking as I instinctively held onto the dreamcatcher hanging around my neck.

"Jasmine is having nightmares lately. It's not good for the baby. Hand it over," he said in a commanding tone.

I shook my head as I took defensive steps backward.

This is the only memory of my mother that I have left. I can't let it go to someone who doesn't know its worth. He sighed when he saw my reaction.

"Fine. Since you think it's worth something, then name your price!"

Price? He thinks everything is about money? I wanted to refuse. I wanted to slap him and leave, but I remembered the last time I tried that—I was deprived of food for three days.

"Alright," I replied.

I gently unclipped the dreamcatcher from my neck and handed it to Jasmine.

"May the child in your womb be a blessing to you and Robert," I told her with a smile.

Robert was surprised to hear me say that. As if to appease his conscience, he gave me what he called a 'golden opportunity.'

"I'll allow you to be my child's mother too if you behave yourself and be a good assistant to Jasmine during her pregnancy," he said.

I don't know what happened, but Jasmine suddenly let go of the dreamcatcher and it crashed to the floor. A shard cut her leg, causing her to bleed so much.

As if his life had just been threatened, Robert scooped Jasmine into his arms like a fragile baby.

"Quick! Get the doctor!" he barked orders at the housekeeper to call the family doctor.

Jasmine's mother turned to me and gave me a mocking look.

I don't blame her, because I also found myself laughable. I remembered two days ago when my ulcer flared up—Robert didn't bother about me. He left me and went on an ice cream date with Jasmine.

Even when I had a high fever a week ago, he still didn't care. He simply commanded the housekeeper to disinfect everywhere so that I wouldn't affect Jasmine and her baby.

Realizing my time here is up, I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave. Robert grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

"Where are you going without apologizing?" he asked.

Jasmine was now sitting on a sofa, giving me a victorious smirk.

"Apologize!" he barked at me.

"But I wasn't—"

Before I could finish my words, he slapped me and kicked my legs, making me fall on my knees before Jasmine. I winced in pain as my knees pressed against the broken dreamcatcher on the floor.

"You knew that nonsense dreamcatcher was broken before you deliberately gave it to her. Don't you think that's your fault and you should apologize?" he said.

I smirked. Saying sorry has been the only word in my vocabulary since I got married to Robert.

Jasmine missed her doctor appointment—I say sorry.

Jasmine vomited after eating a meal she prepared herself—I say sorry.

Robert woke up late and missed his business meeting—I say sorry.

It's not new to me anymore; I'm used to it already.

Taking a deep breath, I fell on my face as if I were greeting a queen.

"I'm truly sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, ma'am." I raised my head and faced Robert. "Is that enough?" I asked him.

His gaze zeroed in on my knees pressed against the broken dreamcatcher.

"Stop pretending to be pitiful, Mia. No one will fall for your pretense here!"

Before I could reply, the family doctor rushed in, pushing me out of the way and rushing to Jasmine's side.

Of course, I don't exist to anyone related to Robert.