For our anniversary, I asked Daniel to bring home some of that spicy shrimp pasta from the little Italian place downtown. The morning sickness in my first trimester was brutal, and it was the only thing I craved. But he came home late, empty-handed. Said he forgot. I didn’t say a word, but my eyes caught on a single strand of hair on his collar. It was long, brown, and definitely not mine. Later, scrolling through my phone, I saw the pasta I never got. It was on the social media page of his junior colleague, Sophie. Her caption read: “He remembered it’s my favorite. Feeling so spoiled!” 1 In the photo, a handsome hand was gently twirling the pasta onto her fork. The watch on that hand was the one I’d given Daniel for his birthday last year. It wasn't that he was too busy. It was just that his warmth and attention were being given to someone who, in his eyes, needed them more. I shut my phone, a wave of nausea crashing over me. I grabbed the trash can and threw up until my whole body ached, a bitter taste rising from my throat and seeping deep into my heart. When it was over, I set the can down and laughed. A hollow, empty sound. I was the world’s biggest fool. Back in the bedroom, Daniel was just stepping out of the shower. “Why are you still up?” “Daniel.” He looked at me, his eyes questioning. “We need to talk.” He dropped his towel and sat on the edge of the bed across from me. “About what?” “Who is Sophie to you?” His whole body went rigid. The color drained from his face, and the panic of being caught was written all over him. “What are you talking about?” he snapped, his brow furrowed in a practiced display of indignation. “She’s my junior colleague. You know that.” “Oh, I know,” I said, nodding slowly. “I also know she loves spicy shrimp pasta. And that she has beautiful, long brown hair. And that when she works late, you don’t just bring her food, you stay and eat with her.” The last of his composure shattered. “Were you following me? Did you go through my phone?” He shot to his feet, looming over me. “Anna, when did you become this person?” I didn’t move, just tilted my head back to meet his furious gaze. “I didn’t have to. You’re just not as careful as you think you are.” “So what?” he spat. “So I had dinner with a colleague. Is that such a crime? Are you really going to blow this completely out of proportion?” “We’ve been together for ten years, Anna. You’re pregnant with our child. Can you stop being so paranoid and sensitive for one second?” I stared at him, and suddenly, the fight just drained out of me. It was all so pointless. “Aren't you exhausted, Daniel?” He froze. “Playing the devoted husband to me and the perfect boyfriend to her. Doesn’t it tear you apart?” “I’m not,” he said automatically, but his voice was weak, stripped of all conviction. “Whatever,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. I couldn’t stand to hear any more of his lies. “What do you want, then?” he asked, his voice laced with irritation. “What do I want?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Daniel, I want a divorce.” 2 Daniel refused to even consider it. His eyes welled up. “Anna, after ten years together? With our baby on the way? How can you be so cruel?” He started listing off memories, from our college days to now, painting a picture of a man who’d made a single, foolish mistake but whose heart had only ever belonged to me. He cried, his voice thick with emotion, as if he were the one who’d been wronged, the victim in all of this. I let him finish, sitting in cold silence. When his tirade finally sputtered out, I asked him one simple question. “Are you done?” He stared at me, dumbfounded. “If you’re done, then get out. I’m tired.” After that night, Daniel transformed. He started coming home on time every single day. He cooked elaborate meals designed for pregnant women, took me on gentle walks, and read to me before bed. He was playing the part of the perfect, doting husband, so attentive and caring it was almost believable. It was as if our confrontation, the pasta, the woman named Sophie, had all been a figment of my imagination. My friends told me to give him another chance. Men make mistakes, they said. The important thing is that he’s trying to come back to you. I didn’t argue. But I knew that some things, once broken, can never be pieced back together. One afternoon, I was walking home from a doctor’s appointment when a white VW Beetle suddenly lost control, swerving straight for me. The impact sent me flying. I landed hard on the pavement. A searing pain ripped through my abdomen, spreading like fire through my entire body. Before I blacked out, I saw crimson blooming beneath my dress, staining the concrete dark. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. Daniel was slumped in a chair beside my bed. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw covered in dark stubble. He looked wrecked, utterly devastated. “Anna, you’re awake,” he croaked, grabbing my hand. I ignored him, my other hand instinctively going to my now-flat stomach. “The baby…” Tears instantly flooded Daniel’s eyes. “The doctors… they couldn’t save the baby.” My own tears began to fall, silent tracks down my cheeks. The tiny life I had cherished for three months, the one whose faint flutters I had just begun to feel, was gone. Just… gone. “Anna, please don’t,” Daniel pleaded, trying to pull me into an awkward hug. “We’re still young. We can have more children.” I twisted away from his touch. “Who was driving?” I asked, my voice flat. Daniel’s body tensed. “It was… it was Sophie.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “She’s in the room next door. She was hurt too. She said she mixed up the gas and the brake.” “And?” I stared at him, my heart turning to ice. “What are you going to do about it?” Daniel fell silent. It was a long time before he finally met my gaze, his eyes begging for understanding. “Anna, she didn’t mean to. She just made associate director, her future is so bright. If she gets a criminal record, her life will be ruined.” “Can we please… handle this privately?” I looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. My child was dead. I had almost died. And he was worried about the killer’s career. In that moment, whatever was left of my heart turned to ash. “Daniel, what is your heart made of? Is it stone?” His face went pale, his lips trembling as he struggled for words. “Get out,” I said, closing my eyes. The sight of him made me sick. He didn’t get out. Instead, he did something even more disgusting. He put me under house arrest in my own hospital room, all under the guise of “letting me recover in peace.” He took my phone and forbade anyone from visiting. Every day, he brought my meals himself and watched me take the vitamin pills he brought. But I knew they weren’t vitamins. They were sleeping pills. I played along, tucking the pills under my tongue and spitting them out the moment he was gone. Sophie showed up on the third day. She dismissed the nurse and locked the door behind her. “Daniel said you weren’t feeling well, so I thought I’d come see you,” she said, walking to my bedside with a triumphant smirk. I kept my eyes closed, saying nothing. “You must hate me so much right now, Anna,” she whispered, leaning in close. “But what can you do about it? You lost a baby, but I haven’t lost a thing. Daniel still protects me. He still loves me.” “Did you know,” she continued, her voice a venomous purr, “that when the car hit, Daniel ran to me first? He held me and told me not to be scared. He never even looked at you.” Beneath the blankets, my hands clenched into tight fists. “You probably want to kill me, don’t you?” She chuckled. “Too bad you just took your medicine.” She pulled a long, thin silver pin from her pocket. “I wonder… will this hurt?” She smiled, grabbing my hand and shoving the pin straight through the back of it. The sharp agony jolted me. My eyes flew open, and I stared at her with the cold, dead gaze one reserves for an enemy. She flinched, startled by my sudden movement. In that split second of her surprise, I summoned every ounce of strength I had, raised my free hand, and slapped her hard across the face. Sophie stumbled back, stunned, her hand flying to her cheek. “You’re awake?” she stammered, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You… you hit me?”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "389902", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel