STIGMA

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

Katie Oettgen

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

Romance Crime Revenge Pregnancy Enemies to Lovers Pregnancy Personal Growth

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Running through the empty halls， I race against the clock to reach my classroom on time. Stupid alarm clock...it was the sixth clock this month I“d unknowingly smashed to bits this month alone. Mum keeps on saying I pushed it off of the nightstand but I don“t see how it melted into a liquid this morning.

Turning the dial on my locker， quickly getting frustrated when the door won“t open， I stand back and run my shoulder into the rusty door. The door creaks open， rubbing my shoulder， I put in my jacket， my school bag and take out my things.

Slamming the door shut， I run to the second level for my first lesson， Chemistry with Mr Banks. I round the corner rushing to the last classroom down the hall. Not looking where I“m going， I slam head first into a wall and I fly back a few meters， groaning， I feel my cheeks heat up.

"Hey!" A deep enchanting male voice murmurs from above me."You alright?"

Warm hazelnut brown eyes that are shining in excitement stare down at me， bulging muscles straining against his thin black T-shirt， a long-fingered hand stretched out towards me.

Taking it， I feel a jolt of electricity go down my spine spreading a warmness through me as it travels leaving little tingles in its wake.

"Oh!" I gasp as he pulls me to my feet， my small， 5 foot 4 frame against his probably 6 foot 2 body. My breasts pressed against his muscular chest， my cheeks heat up at this realisation. "Sorry."

"It“s alright，" he mutters， the excitement in his eyes fading replaced by a coldness.

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