LOVED BY MY EX-HUSBAND

"Congratulations, Mrs. Davies. You are six weeks pregnant." As the words of the doctor replayed in Ashley's mind for what seemed like the hundredth time, a trail of joy and happiness surge through her and an uncontrollable smile playing on her lips.

She hurriedly got into the car, her excitement barely contained as she instructed the chauffeur to take her home. She couldn't wait to share the news with her husband. She is sure he'd be extremely thrilled by it. He had always longed for a child from her, despite the turbulence in their marriage.

Charles and his family had constantly belittled Ashley, making her feel less of herself because of her inability to conceive a child, but with this pregnancy, she hoped the narrative would be different; she'd be able to stand tall and have a sense of fulfilment.

As the car weaved through the streets, Ashley placed her hands on her stomach, gently patting it. She could hardly believe it-a life was growing inside her.

Upon arrival, she ascended upstairs hurriedly, the sound of her feet simultaneously echoing with her voice.

"Charles!"

"Charles!!"

"Charles!!!" Her excitement was palpable-that even the deaf might be able to sense the happiness in her voice.

There was no answer, her feet barely touching the ground as she raced towards the study as Henry spends most of his time there. She opened the door, which was empty.

Frowning, she turned towards the bedroom. "Oh God. Oh God," she heard soft, intimate moans coming from her bedroom. She froze. Immediately, her hands started trembling and her heart thundering in her chest.

"No, this can't be. I must be hearing things," she murmured to herself, shaking her head vigorously in disagreement, trying to deny the reality happening before her.

She swallowed hard, her feet moving on their own as she realised she had heard right, and this time she could hear the intense moans more clearly, her stomach twisted in knots.

With tears welled up in her eyes, she lifted her hands, reaching for the doorknob, and then she paused, wiping off the tears that slide down her cheeks.

She wanted to run to erase the reality of the terrible sight of her husband making out with his mistress on their matrimonial bed, but the pull of the truth was stronger than her fear.

She turned the doorknob and walked in. She saw him in bed with Isabella. The same woman who had always been a threat to her marriage.

The scene before her shattered whatever remained of her composure. Isabella was squatted on the bed while Charles-her husband-was thrusting into her from behind, his hands holding unto her waist as she kept moaning and holding tightly to the bedsheets.

Oblivious of her presence, she screamed. "Charles." He turned his head, his gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he paused, but there was no remorse in his eyes, only irritation that he had been interrupted.

Ashley could see the pleasure and satisfaction that spread across his face. Something he had never felt towards her. The lack of guilt-sent Ashley reeling. Without another word, she turned and ran, her vision blurred by tears.

Her feet stumbled down the stairs, but she barely noticed the pain. She was too overwhelmed with pain and emotional torture to give a care. Her mind was spinning-a storm of betrayal and disbelief.

She has always been aware of Charles cheating spree with his childhood sweetheart, Isabella, but it has never crossed her mind that it will ever happen on their matrimonial bed. This is the last straw that broke the camel's back. This level of disrespect is just too much for her to take in.

Charles Davies is a cute and tall, strikingly handsome man; his broad shoulders and build make him athletic. His jawline was sharp and well defined, and his eyes were dreamy, which made young women line up to him for a relationship.

He's also extremely rich, a top-tier, while Ashley was just a simple girl, cute but nothing special, and the daughter of his family chauffeur.

She was only able to marry him because of his grandfather, who refused him marrying Isabella and insisted on him marrying Ashley before he could finally be in possession of his inheritance.

Despite the fact that Ashley loved her husband dearly, he has always made it known that the marriage was a convenience one and she would never get his love no matter how hard she tried.

Grabbing her bag, she dashed out of the house and hailed a taxi, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She decided to head to Hailey's-her best friend's-residence.

She pulled out her phone, her hands shaking as she dialled Hailey. When Hailey's voice came through, it was calm and familiar. Ashley's voice was trembling with the weight of her tears barely holding it together. "Hailey... Are you ho-me?

She could see the taxi driver glance at her through the mirror, but she was too hurt to feel embarrassed.

Hailey was surprised and saddened by the intensity of her tears. "Yes," she replied. "What's going on?" she inquired; the concern in her voice was evident.

"I will be at your place, soon," Ashley said, dropping the call.

The ride to Hailey's felt like an eternity. As she walked in, she toss away her bags, sank onto the sofa, and sighed. Hailey moved closer to her, sitting by the edge of the chair, her hand on Ashley's shoulder.

"Hey, Ashley. Why would you sigh like that?" Hailey's voice was soft, but her eyes wide with concern as she pushed back Ashley's hair from her face.

"And your face, they are swollen and red," she asked, every of her questions triggering a new set of emotions.

There was a moment of silence, and only Ashley sobs resonates through the room. Hailey then pulled her into an embrace, patting her back and constantly whispering comforting words in her ear.

When the sobs finally subsided, Ashley wiped her tears and looked at her, her voice hoarse as she explained what transpired to Hailey.

"I found Charles... with Isabella on our matrimonial bed making out."

Hailey gasped, her hand flying towards her mouth in shock. "What? Her face was covered in sadness. " On your bed? On my God, Ashley. So what did you do?

"Nothing, Hailey. Nothing," she whispered, kicking off her shoes. "What could I have done? What was I supposed to do?

Ashley actually knew that she should have done something and not just stormed out of the house like that, but she was actually devoid of what to do.

Hailey's face hardened, a mix of anger and disbelief. "You should have confronted him. You shouldn't condone him cheating and disrespecting you like that."

Ashley bit her lower lips, the weight of Hailey's words crushing on her. "I'm pregnant, Hailey," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Hailey's expression softened, her anger melting into sympathy. "Congratulations," she said, her smile was genuine and warm. "I'm happy for you, Ash."

Ashley nodded but couldn't find the joy she had felt just hours ago while Hailey pulled her into another embrace, offering her all the comfort and solace that Ashley needed to feel better.

She spent the night at Hailey's, unable to face Charles or the empty house.

The next day, she got to the mansion, which was oddly quiet. Charles had gone off to work. He hadn't cared about her wellbeing or where she spent the night.

She pushed away the thoughts and went to the kitchen. She prepared Charles favourite dish and set the table, hoping that the act of kindness would help smooth things over, and she also planned on breaking the pregnancy news to him.

Charles came back from work some hours later. His demeanour commands the room.

"Hello," she greeted in a soothing voice, making sure her voice didn't reveal the pain beneath.

She stood up in an attempt to give him a hug, but he shoved her away, and she lost her balance, falling into the couch nearby.

Looking at his face, his eyes were dark and cold, more intense than how have been since their three years of marriage, and anger was hovering around him.

"Where did you go last night?" His tone was sharp and commanding as he dropped his briefcase on the table. A cold aura radiating from him, ready to unleash its fury.

Ashley's mouth fell open in disbelief. How could he still have the nerve to be angry towards her? She should be the one angry, not him.

As she was about to say something, his voice cut through her. "You know what? I don't care," he said dismissively. He pulled out a brown envelope from his briefcase, tossing it onto the table.

"Sign it. It's a divorce agreement," he spat out.