Chapter 1He Killed Our Baby

Our seventh wedding anniversary. The hospital called, pulling me in for an emergency C-section.

The Chief of Staff, Mr. Hill, his face grim, personally warned me: The patient was someone very important’s beloved. The surgery had to be flawless, or the entire hospital would face the consequences.

I frowned, reviewing her chart. I’d always thought power players in this town, like my husband Asher, were devoted to their wives. A “beloved” who wasn’t his wife? That stung.

The surgery was a success. The incision, neat and clean, was a testament to my skill.

Just as I was letting out a relieved breath, a swarm of men in dark suits burst in. They shoved me roughly to my knees, right outside the patient's room.

Then, a voice, hauntingly familiar, pierced the air, sending a chill straight to my bones.

“My wife says you hurt her during surgery. You’ll stay on your knees all night to atone.”

Through the window, I saw him. My husband, Asher Hill, cradling a newborn, his eyes red-rimmed with tender concern.

He was my husband, Asher Hill. And the woman in the hospital bed? The one he claimed he’d cut ties with three years ago.

…

* * *

Six hours of surgery had already drained every ounce of my energy. The cold seeping into my knees was nothing compared to the icy stab in my heart. My lips parted, but no words came out. All I could do was stare blankly into the room.

Asher’s eyes were bloodshot as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to the girl’s forehead.

“Sweetheart, our daughter is beautiful.”

“Thank you for this precious gift on our three-year anniversary.”

Tears splattered onto the pristine hospital floor. So, Asher had never truly ended things with her. All those late nights he supposedly spent “at the office,” were they spent with her instead?

The girl on the bed, her voice sickly sweet, grated on my nerves. It was just like Asher’s birthday, years ago. I’d swapped shifts with a colleague, rushing home early to surprise him. But when I pushed open our door, Asher was tangled naked with a stranger.

I’d gone wild, flinging the birthday cake at them. Asher had dragged the girl to her knees, his eyes wild with a desperate, bloodshot plea.

“Aurora, I’m so sorry. My friends got me wasted and brought her to my bed.”

“I was drunk, I didn’t know who she was…”

The girl, trembling, reached for my hand, trying to excuse Asher. “Mrs. Hill, it was my fault. I needed money, I seduced him, I even drugged his drink.”

That night, Asher whisked the girl away at lightning speed, then tore into his buddies who’d allegedly set him up. He wrote a ten-page apology by hand, then knelt outside my bedroom door for an entire month. It even reached Asher’s mother. With tears in her eyes, she begged me to give him another chance.

“Aurora, he can’t live without you. He’ll fall apart.”

I locked myself in our room for three days and three nights, convinced I couldn’t sever the deep, searing love I felt for him. I forgave Asher. But I also warned him: if there was ever a next time, I would vanish from his life forever.

Daylight broke, and the bodyguards finally let me go. Chief Hill, shaking his head, told me to pack my things and leave the hospital. I drifted home like a ghost, every muscle aching, my spirit a fragile thread.

The candles on the dining table had burned down, the steak was cold. A tight, sickening ache filled my chest. I collapsed onto the floor, my eyes drawn to the enormous wedding photo on the wall. Asher in that picture, his gaze brimming with devotion, was the exact same man I’d seen doting on Felicity in the hospital room last night.

Felicity pouted, asking for water. He carefully checked the temperature, then brought the glass to her lips.

Felicity murmured her legs ached. He immediately searched online for how to massage a new mother.

My eyes were vacant, tears streaming down my face, my heart spasming uncontrollably. Seven years of shared love, now reduced to ashes.

Asher, I don’t want you anymore.