His Cruel Betrayal, My Dying Wish

Name: His Cruel Betrayal, My Dying Wish
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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My husband, Liam, locked me out of our bedroom for the third night, a faint murmur of voices audible from inside-his low and soothing, hers soft and appreciative. Chloe, eight months pregnant with his child, was in my bed. But I had just finished massaging Chloe' s swollen feet, even making her warm milk. This was the same husband who had built our ten-year marriage on the unwavering foundation that we would be child-free. And when the baby cried from the nursery down the hall, it wasn' t Chloe who rose, but me, spending the entire night caring for their child. The next morning, I learned Chloe had a "dying wish": to be Liam's wife. He presented me with divorce papers, asking me to sign. He believed I had finally understood what it meant to be a selfless wife. He thought he had broken me, that this was his ultimate victory. He was wrong. I wasn' t broken; I was dying. Stage-four stomach cancer, inoperable, aggressive. Three days to live. As I nursed his child, listening to him make love to Chloe in our bed, the pain in my stomach sharpened. The irony tasted metallic. The next morning, Liam handed me black coffee-the kind Chloe liked, the kind that upset my stomach-and again, the divorce papers. When Chloe later appeared, wrapped in my silk robe and wearing the "Star of the Ocean" necklace I had coveted, she taunted me with Liam's dismissal of my desire for it. Overwhelmed, I collapsed, but when Liam appeared, he slapped me, then had his bodyguards drag me away. He called me a jealous, bitter monster. Why would he, the man I loved, turn so cruel? How could he believe such lies? Why did the universe allow me no peace, even in my final moments? I refused to be his broken toy. With the last of my strength, I offered him my entire company, signed over with a bloody thumbprint. Then, in an act of final defiance, I cut down the magnolia tree-the symbol of our love-and burned all my memories. My death was not just an ending, but a deliberate unmaking of his world, a final, painful act of rebellion.

Revenge Pregnancy Divorce Drama Female-centered

Chapter 10

07-09 14:43

Introduction

But I had just finished massaging Chloe' s swollen feet, even making her warm milk. This was the same husband who had built our ten-year marriage on the unwavering foundation that we would be child-free. And when the baby cried from the nursery down the hall, it wasn' t Chloe who rose, but me, spending the entire night caring for their child.

The next morning, I learned Chloe had a "dying wish": to be Liam's wife. He presented me with divorce papers, asking me to sign. He believed I had finally understood what it meant to be a selfless wife. He thought he had broken me, that this was his ultimate victory.

He was wrong. I wasn' t broken; I was dying. Stage-four stomach cancer, inoperable, aggressive. Three days to live.

As I nursed his child, listening to him make love to Chloe in our bed, the pain in my stomach sharpened. The irony tasted metallic. The next morning, Liam handed me black coffee-the kind Chloe liked, the kind that upset my stomach-and again, the divorce papers.

When Chloe later appeared, wrapped in my silk robe and wearing the "Star of the Ocean" necklace I had coveted, she taunted me with Liam's dismissal of my desire for it. Overwhelmed, I collapsed, but when Liam appeared, he slapped me, then had his bodyguards drag me away. He called me a jealous, bitter monster.

Why would he, the man I loved, turn so cruel? How could he believe such lies? Why did the universe allow me no peace, even in my final moments?

I refused to be his broken toy. With the last of my strength, I offered him my entire company, signed over with a bloody thumbprint. Then, in an act of final defiance, I cut down the magnolia tree-the symbol of our love-and burned all my memories. My death was not just an ending, but a deliberate unmaking of his world, a final, painful act of rebellion.