Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.

Modern Parenting Ex-wife Drama

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I stared at myself in the mirror, rolling my eyes. I just couldn't believe that I would dress in such a revealing way, but I had no other choice.

Shane Hayes and I had been married for two years. Today was our wedding anniversary. He had been seldom in the mood to have sex. If I didn't take the initiative to seduce him, it worried me that I might lose him. Thus, I decided to go all out tonight.

Seconds later, I heard a noise outside the door.

I took off my coat and walked out of the room in a red slip dress.

"Honey, I really missed you!" I wrapped my arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips.

Shane pushed me away, eyeing me up and down. I noticed that he was in a trance for a moment.

Truthfully, I was happy, thinking that he might like seeing me in such an outfit.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

he asked, walking to the sofa to sit down.

"Do you remember what day it is today?" I asked, sitting next to him, hoping that he knew the answer.

For a few seconds, Shane contemplated before he said, "What day is it?"

Disappointment flashed through my heart, but I kept on smiling.

"Nothing special. I was just kidding." I threw myself into his arms, sliding my hand under his shirt and rubbing his chest. "Do you want to take a shower, honey? I'll prepare the water."

"That's not necessary. If you have nothing else to say, I'm going to head back to the study to get some rest."

He then pushed me away and walked towards his study.

As I sat on the sofa, I clenched my fists and felt my fingernails digging into my palms.

Ever since I got pregnant, he had moved into the study, because he said that he didn't want the baby to get hurt or something.

I was only twenty-six years old. I was married and pregnant, but I had to sleep by myself every single night. Nowadays, I had been living a lonely and miserable life.

I had once gone online to ask around in certain forums. One particular comment piqued my interest. Someone mentioned that my husband's lack of interest might stem from the fact that he had already seen lots of other women's bodies.

Shane was an obstetrician by profession, so this made sense.

But there was one tiny detail that kept nagging at the back of my mind.

Each time he stayed in his study, he would always lock the door. We were the only people in this house, so there was no need to lock the door. It made no damn sense! It made me wonder if he was hiding something.

I had been thinking long and hard about this for days, until it became my biggest concern. I was so troubled by it that it began to disrupt my daily life.

Not wanting to continue on guessing, I had installed a bug under his bed this afternoon.

As soon as I went back to my room, I put on earphones.

Once I had gained access to the bug, I heard the unmistakable sound of panting and moaning. I felt a lump in my throat, and my eyes welled up with tears.

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