When His Mistress Caused My Miscarriage I Left Him

Ari's secretary took a fancy to my wedding ring, and I casually handed it to her. I even offered her all the jewelry I'd brought into the marriage. Ari complimented me for finally showing some sense and promised to take me to Switzerland to see the Alps. But on the day we were supposed to leave, the secretary had a breakdown and tried to harm herself in her apartment. Without a moment's hesitation, Ari left me stranded in the suburbs, and I nearly ran into trouble because I got lost. He brushed off my concerns with, "As a boss, I need to care for my employees' wellbeing. Kiara's going through a rough patch, so I'm taking her on a trip to relax. You're so understanding; I know you won't mind." He promised to make it up to me with the most breathtaking views of the Alps when he got back. Little did he know, I didn't care anymore.

On the first day Ari whisked his secretary off to Switzerland, I had already erased all traces of myself from our home. Even the house staff knew I was barely a Herrera in name.

"I told you before, Ari never truly cared for her. It's surprising she finally saw the light and chose to leave."

"Yeah, I'd heard he married her because of his family's pressure. If she had realized it sooner, she wouldn't have wasted seven years of her youth."

"But walking away from the Herrera family will have the social elite gossiping."

"Let's just focus on our tasks; what happens with the elites is none of our concern..."

I had grown immune to their chatter. In the end, I packed a single suitcase. It was a shock to realize that after seven years, I had so little that truly belonged to me. The gifts Ari gave me were leftovers Kiara didn’t want. Even my unique ring was snatched away by her. The staff were attuned to the dynamics; Ari had been cold to me since the wedding. Over the years, they treated me like I was invisible, often causing discomfort. But when Kiara was around, they’d rush to serve her, hoping she might mention them to Ari for a raise.

After some thought, I gathered all the staff and cleared my throat. "Let me clarify something: I wasn't dumped—I'm the one leaving your dear Mr. Herrera. Also, my life after divorce is none of your concern. I have suitors lined up all the way to France. Maybe you should worry about whether you'll keep this cushy job once I'm gone."

I needed to reclaim the bold, confident person I once was. For the first time, I spoke to them so directly, and they were momentarily thrown off. Indeed, their employment by the Herrera family was largely due to my marriage into it. Carmelo Herrera had expanded the staff for my sake. After my words, I ignored their stunned faces and turned to leave.

Suddenly, Ari called. "Honey, I'll be back in three days. Make a honey spice cake, okay? She wants one."

The "she" was, of course, Kiara. It was laughable. He didn’t know I had already booked a flight for three days later. I remembered when he, someone who never cared for cake, suddenly claimed he wanted a honey spice cake. I secretly took a crash course in pastry making just for him. Only later did I find out the cake lover was Kiara. The honey spice cake I spent three months perfecting was for a secretary!

When I decided I didn't want to make it anymore, he turned frosty. "I provide you a good life as Mrs. Herrera. All I'm asking is for you to bake a cake. Why make such a fuss?"

"Do you realize how crucial Secretary Fernandez is to me? A good secretary eases so much work strain. What's wrong with baking her a cake?"

Whenever I refused, he'd make me pay emotionally. Eventually, I couldn't take it and gave in again. I molded myself into the celebrated Mrs. Herrera he envisioned, never expecting love—just mutual respect. But this time, to appease his little secretary, he made me lose our only child. Even when I emerged from confinement, weak and frail, he refused to meet my eyes, all so I’d hand over a ring tinged with affection. Finally, after countless disappointments, I lost hope.

Calmly, I replied, "In three days, I won't be around, so I can't make it."

His voice immediately turned cold. "You’re a housewife. Where could you possibly go?"

"Ari, I married you, not sold myself to you!"