No More Coming Back, Ex-HusbandChapter 1
Four weeks ago, I almost died at the party organized by my husband to announce our pregnancy.
I was standing at the top of the grand staircase, two months pregnant, waiting for George to announce our news to the world. Then the chandelier fell.
I didn't even have time to scream. The last thing I felt was the crushing weight of glass and steel, and then—darkness.
When I finally floated back to consciousness, I couldn't move. My body felt heavy, like it was buried under sand. I couldn't open my eyes, but I could hear.
When I woke up, I couldn't move. I was trapped in the dark, my body heavy as lead.
But I could hear.
“Why is she stabilizing?”
George. My heart gave a weak flutter. He was here. He stayed.
“I didn't pay you to save her,” he hissed, his voice dripping with ice. “I paid you to make sure she never woke up.”
I froze. The beeping of the monitor was the only sound in the room.
“Mr. Caldwell,” the doctor stammered. “It’s a miracle she survived. The swelling—”
“It’s a disaster!” George snapped. “Do you know how inconvenient this is? The board is waiting. The insurance payout is pending. And Donna is waiting in the car.”
Donna. My stepsister. My best friend. The woman who held my hand when I found out I was pregnant.
“She’s expecting a widow, not a husband with a vegetable for a wife,” George continued. “Fix this. Put her back under. Overdose her. I don’t care.”
“The medication…” the doctor hesitated. “It’s dangerous.”
“I. Don’t. Care.”
My world shattered. The man I loved… he didn’t just want me gone. He was erasing me.
“And the… other matter?” George asked, his tone bored.
“The pregnancy?” The doctor sighed.
I strained to listen, my internal scream rising. My baby. Please, not my baby.
“Terminated on impact,” the doctor said flatly. “The trauma was catastrophic. We had to perform an emergency hysterectomy. She lost the child, Mr. Caldwell. And she will never carry another.”
Dead.
My baby was dead.
And I was barren.
The grief hit me harder than the chandelier ever could. I wanted to wail, to tear the room apart, but I was paralyzed.
“Perfect,” George laughed. A cold, cruel sound. “I never wanted that brat anyway. It was just a prop to get the grandfather’s trust fund. With the kid dead and her barren, she’s useless.”
He checked his watch.