As a master of Complementary and Alternative Medicine, I diagnosed my wife with pregnancy. To my shock, she froze in terror and demanded a divorce that very instant.
That night, I took her for a paternity test, which confirmed the child was mine.
But no matter how I pleaded, my wife still begged me to sign the divorce papers and left our home without taking a single thing.
Anger and confusion consumed me, so I confided in a close friend. Yet when he heard that my wife was pregnant, his face turned pale with dread. Without a word of explanation, he bolted from my house, blocked all contact with me, and even seized my belongings—including the new house we had just bought together.
Crushed and bewildered, I returned to my hometown to start over. When my parents learned what had happened, they wept bitterly, heartbroken by my misfortune. But that same night, as I drank from my water bottle, a searing pain tore through me. My parents secretly poisoned me with rat poison. I died, still sobbing in disbelief.
Why had everyone turned against me after my wife’s pregnancy? What sin had I committed to deserve this?
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the very moment I had diagnosed my wife’s pregnancy.
——
“Honey, I didn’t get my period this month. Do you think I’m pregnant?”
Seeing Grace Quinn stretch out her wrist for me to check her pulse, a chill ran down my spine. This time, I knew for certain—I had been reborn.
Grace’s eyes sparkled with joy. “Honey, we’ve been trying so hard for two months. Could it be that we’re finally pregnant? Maybe heaven has blessed us!”
Her voice trembled with happiness, yet my heart ached. Why did this woman, who once left me in fear, now look at me with such love and hope?
She had endured bitter herbal brews to nourish her body, praying for this very moment. Yet in my previous life, the instant she learned she was pregnant, she went pale and left everything behind—her million-dollar inheritance, our home, and me—just to protect the unborn child.
And the paternity report had proven that the baby was mine.
Why, then, had she been so terrified?
This time, I decided to hide the truth until I understood everything. I smiled gently and shook my head.
“Honey, you’re not pregnant yet,” I said softly. “You’ve just been stressed from all the preparation, and your body’s tired. That’s why your period’s late. Don’t worry—just rest well.”
She didn’t argue. Instead, she wrapped her arms around me, trembling slightly.
“Honey, I just want to have a baby with you. I—”
I cut her off gently. “What you need now is a good shower and some rest.”
I pushed her lightly toward the bathroom, my mind racing. If she didn’t realize she was pregnant, maybe I could prevent the same tragedy.
I clenched my fists, palms slick with sweat, thinking of what to do next.
But just moments later, the bathroom door flew open.
Grace stood there drenched from head to toe, water dripping from her hair. In her trembling hand, there was a pregnancy test—two red lines clear as day.
My chest tightened. I lunged forward to grab it, but she stumbled back, eyes wide with fear, her whole body trembling.
And just like before, she whispered the same words that shattered my life once already.
“Ethan Ford, let’s get a divorce.”
I froze, my fists hanging helplessly at my sides.
“Why? The child is mine!”
“I know,” she said, her teeth chattering. “But I can’t do this, Ethan. I’m sorry. I’m taking back my promise to have a child with you. Let’s end this.”
Her eyes glistened with tears as she added softly, “All the money is yours. I’ll leave with nothing. I’ll raise the child alone. Please… just let me go.”
