Malaika

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

Tao Yaoyao

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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"You're pregnant, ma'am. Congratulations!"

Cheryl Naylor walked out of the hospital in a stupor, but the doctor's remarks continued to play in her head.

When she glanced at the pregnancy test report in her hand once more, her face creased into a sudden smile.

It was the third year of Cheryl and Jarred Fuller's marriage.

They wed not because of love but to fulfill the last request of Jarred's grandmother.

However, Jarred was a wonderful husband once they were married, doing everything a spouse should do. He made sure Cheryl lived a good life and took good care of her. Every year on their anniversary, he would ask his assistant to send Cheryl a gift.

He treated her with the utmost respect and dignity that a wife deserved.

It seemed to everyone else that they were the sweetest and most loving couple.

However, it was a far cry from reality.

Cheryl kept to herself that Jarred did not utter a single "I love you" to her in the past three years they spent together.

Nonetheless, she fervently wanted to marry him, and she was already content with just having his company and presence in her life. She hoped their happiness would only increase now that they were expecting their firstborn.

Cheryl cautiously tucked away the pregnancy test report and eagerly dialed Jarred's number.

"Cheryl."

The man's deep and pleasant voice could be heard via the phone. It had a soothing tone to it.

Cheryl couldn't keep her enthusiasm from coming through, and her voice reflected it. "Jarred, I've got some news for you!"

"I've got something to tell you, as well. Let's talk about it later tonight."

"Okay..."

But before Cheryl could finish her sentence, the call was abruptly ended.

She didn't know what to think at first, but the pleasure of her first pregnancy soon took over.

Night came fast as the sun started to sink lower in the sky.

Bright lights illuminated the River Villa.

Cheryl prepared a feast of Jarred's favorite dishes as she waited for him to come back.

Before long, a car pulling up on the driveway could be heard outside.