Pregnant Mistress, Broken Wife

Pregnant Mistress, Broken Wife

Gavin

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My husband, Mark, was in the shower when a message from an unknown number buzzed, "Your husband says I'm way more exciting than you, his dead fish, and now I'm pregnant with his child. Who do you think he'll choose?" It was Chloe Miller, Mark' s assistant, the one I' d personally recommended. My breath caught as a video downloaded-Mark, wild and untamed, saying something I couldn't hear over the pounding in my ears. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the shower. Humiliation washed over me, and my decade-long world crumbled. I found a drafted divorce agreement in Mark' s desk drawer. He had been planning this. Then Chloe sent more photos-Mark kissing her in a honeymoon suite in Iceland, taunting me with, "How long has it been since he touched you, old hag?" Every image was a fresh stab of pain. At a charity gala, Chloe, visibly pregnant, clung to Mark. He whispered to her, showing genuine worry. He then bought her a diamond necklace right after buying me a spa voucher. Later, his phone lit up with a message from her, "Is the old hag mad? Don' t worry about her. Come back to me. The baby and I need you." He typed back instantly, still holding me, pretending to comfort me. How could he feign concern for me while being so blatantly connected to her? How could he lie so effortlessly, acting the part of a loving husband while planning to discard me and our entire life? The hypocrisy was suffocating, the cruelty breathtaking. I looked at his smiling, deceitful face, and felt nothing but a vast, empty wasteland where my love for him used to be. My heart, once a steady flame, was extinguished. Now, all that was left were the ashes, and I was ready to become the storm.

Introduction

My husband, Mark, was in the shower when a message from an unknown number buzzed, "Your husband says I'm way more exciting than you, his dead fish, and now I'm pregnant with his child. Who do you think he'll choose?" It was Chloe Miller, Mark' s assistant, the one I' d personally recommended.

My breath caught as a video downloaded-Mark, wild and untamed, saying something I couldn't hear over the pounding in my ears. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the shower. Humiliation washed over me, and my decade-long world crumbled.

I found a drafted divorce agreement in Mark' s desk drawer. He had been planning this. Then Chloe sent more photos-Mark kissing her in a honeymoon suite in Iceland, taunting me with, "How long has it been since he touched you, old hag?" Every image was a fresh stab of pain.

At a charity gala, Chloe, visibly pregnant, clung to Mark. He whispered to her, showing genuine worry. He then bought her a diamond necklace right after buying me a spa voucher. Later, his phone lit up with a message from her, "Is the old hag mad? Don' t worry about her. Come back to me. The baby and I need you." He typed back instantly, still holding me, pretending to comfort me.

How could he feign concern for me while being so blatantly connected to her? How could he lie so effortlessly, acting the part of a loving husband while planning to discard me and our entire life? The hypocrisy was suffocating, the cruelty breathtaking.

I looked at his smiling, deceitful face, and felt nothing but a vast, empty wasteland where my love for him used to be. My heart, once a steady flame, was extinguished. Now, all that was left were the ashes, and I was ready to become the storm.

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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