The day after my miscarriage, my husband, Austin Cadwell, asked me to donate blood for his beloved crush, Kayla Watkins.

"Doctor, her blood type matches. Kayla's had her blood before—no need to test, just use it," he said way too naturally.

The doctor reminded him I needed to rest after my abortion, but Austin barely waited for the words to finish before dragging me off to have my blood drawn.

"Eloise Moreau, who do you think you're sulking at? Kayla getting your blood is a privilege," he spat, seeing my pale face as I gave him attitude.

"Draw more, doctor. She's healthy, make sure there's enough for Kayla," he insisted, ignoring my protests and the nurse's attempts to intervene, hauling me to the blood collection room.

Afterwards, he left me there, weak and dizzy, and went straight to Kayla's room to look after her.

I sat for a long time before I could summon the strength to stand and walk out.

This time, I truly gave up. Austin didn't care about me at all—my life or death meant nothing to him.

Years together meant nothing compared to his first love.

If a marriage can't be held together anymore, it's better to let it go.

***

Austin came home past midnight.

He saw me sitting in the living room, tossed a bag of clothes at me, and headed for the kitchen.

"These are dirty. Make sure you wash them," he said.

Inside the bag was one of Kayla's favorite shirts, something she'd been wearing a lot lately.

If she didn't like it, she wouldn't have worn it twice.

Once, Austin had dirtied one of Kayla's shirts and made me wash it for her.

Afterward, Kayla asked what detergent I'd used—she liked the scent.

Ever since, he regularly brought her clothes home for me to wash.

Somewhere along the line, I'd become the live-in maid, responsible for everything he needed—his meals, his laundry, his home.

He rarely came home before midnight, always blaming it on work dinners and social obligations.

No matter how late I worked myself, I'd wait for him in the living room, with a late-night snack ready, afraid he'd come home hungry.

He never once asked if I was tired, never wondered if I was exhausted. Sometimes, he'd even complain that the snack wasn't what he wanted.

He took everything I did for granted, never truly caring about me.

Just like today with the blood donation, if Kayla needed it, I was always his first thought. He acted like it was my duty.

Every time he needed blood for her, he came straight to me, never hesitating.

After coming home, I felt wrung out, drained of every ounce of strength.

Suddenly, the kitchen erupted with the clatter of pots and pans—he must have been angry again.

Austin walked over, staring at me with irritation. "Why didn't you leave any food for me?"

My head was spinning, my whole body aching. I had no energy left to answer.

"What are you upset about now?" His tone was laced with impatience.

"Kayla was in a critical condition today. The hospital's blood bank was empty. I couldn't just stand by and watch her in danger. What's the big deal about giving a little blood?"

Whenever it came to Kayla, everyone else faded into the background.

No matter how I tried to explain, he never listened. He was always convinced I was just making excuses.

He knew how much I loved him. As long as he apologized afterward, I'd forgive him.

I was pathetic—a hopeless romantic, always ready to forgive, no matter what.

That's why Austin never worried about hurting me.

"Enough. Tomorrow I'll have my assistant bring you something to boost your blood. Cook it yourself and get some sleep. And don't forget to make soup in the morning—Kayla wants the soup you make. I need to bring it to her first thing."

Hearing Austin's self-righteous demands, I almost laughed out loud from sheer disbelief.

Every time I make soup, I have to get up before dawn, letting it simmer on low heat for hours, just because Austin has stomach problems and I want to take care of him.

Now, after my miscarriage, after giving her my blood, I'm still expected to wake up early and make soup for her.

Austin was truly heartless. He doesn't even notice how pale I am, white as a sheet.

Or maybe he does notice—he just doesn't care.

A sharp pain twists through my abdomen, needles stabbing every inch of my body, but nothing hurts as much as my heart.

Seeing me hesitate, Austin's expression darkens.

"Eloise, I've been running around all day. I'm exhausted. I come home to be with you, and you still give me attitude.

"Can't you be more considerate? What wife acts like you, always sulking at her husband? You're just making trouble for no reason!"

I clutch my stomach tightly, but can't help letting out a bitter laugh.

"Maybe we should get divorced. You can go find someone more considerate."

"Alright, alright, I'm not going to argue with you," he dismissed.

I look up at Austin, only to see him staring at his phone, not even listening to a word I said.

I don't need to look to know—it's Kayla calling.

He grabs his phone and heads straight to the study, barely bothering to respond.

"Go get some sleep. Don't forget to make soup in the morning."

His eyes flickered to the surgical record from my miscarriage sitting on the coffee table, pausing for just a moment.

But he still didn't say a word—not even a hint of concern.

I sit there, half-listening as he comforts Kayla.

"Kayla, why are you awake? I only left after I saw you were asleep.

"Didn't you want Eloise's soup? I'll have her make it for you—I'll bring it over first thing in the morning."

His gentle tone feels like a knife, twisting deeper into my chest.

I just lost my child, and he's busy caring for another woman.

I found out I was pregnant four months ago. The whole pregnancy, I was on edge, terrified something would go wrong.

The doctor said my health was poor, that I should rest as much as possible in the first few months to keep the baby safe.

So I was careful, doing everything I could to protect this precious little life.

I used to be healthy, but after donating blood to Kayla so many times, my immunity started to drop.

This wasn't my first pregnancy. I had lost others before because of anemia.

When I found out I was pregnant this time, I swore I'd do everything to keep this baby.

Austin and I had known each other for seven years, married for five, and finally, we were going to have a child together.

But because there hadn't been a child for so long, Austin's parents resented me. His mother never missed a chance to blame me.

"I never agreed to this marriage. A hen that doesn't lay eggs—the Cadwell family line is going to end with you."

Austin always looked at me with disappointment.

"Who knows when I'll finally have my own kid. You got pregnant and couldn't even be careful—now look what's happened."

During that time, the pressure nearly crushed me. I developed anxiety, couldn't sleep, and my hair fell out in clumps.

I thought, finally, my suffering was over. I'd made it past the dangerous stage.

But in the end, I still lost the baby. Maybe the child didn't want to be born into a family like this.

I've completely lost hope for this marriage.

Tomorrow, I plan to sit down with Austin and talk about getting a divorce.

What I didn't expect was that the next morning, as soon as I came downstairs, I was met with Austin's angry accusations.

"Kayla, I'll be over soon. Be good and wait for me—I'll bring you breakfast."

His voice was gentle, soothing in a way I'd never heard before.

I stood there, stunned, as he hung up and looked up, unexpectedly catching sight of me.

When he realized I'd come down from upstairs, Austin's face contorted in anger.

"You're just getting up now? Didn't I tell you to get up early and make soup? Is it really that hard for you?

"Can't you be a little more mature? Stop getting jealous and throwing tantrums all the time!"

Looking at his smug face, I almost laughed out of sheer frustration.

Every time he made a mistake, he'd find a way to blame me, accusing me of blowing things out of proportion and being irrationally jealous.

I couldn't even be bothered to argue, turning to walk away.

Suddenly, pain shot through my wrist as he yanked me back with such force that I stumbled and fell to the floor.

Austin was strong—his grip hurt, and I couldn't steady myself before collapsing.

He towered over me, eyes blazing with anger and impatience.

"Did I say you could leave? Stop pretending to be weak. Get up."

Cold sweat broke out across my forehead, and my face drained of color.

A flicker of panic flashed across Austin's features.

"I didn't pull that hard. You're always making me angry—why can't you just be sweet like Kayla?"

As he spoke, he bent down to pick me up.

I tried to struggle, but he grabbed my hands and lifted me anyway.

I kicked my legs, fighting back. "Put me down!"

"Just behave. Stop squirming."

He set me on the sofa and fetched the first aid kit, tending carefully to the scrapes on my wrist, his expression gentle and his movements cautious.

Once, that would have moved me.

Back then, every little thing he did made my heart flutter, made me believe he truly loved me.

He'd wait in line for hours to buy my favorite pastries.

I only mentioned once how beautiful the marshes must be in the rain—and before I knew it, he'd bought tickets.

He learned how to take better photos of me, showered me with compliments, and always tried to make me smile.

Little by little, his sincerity won me over, and I agreed to marry him.

Watching his serious face now, I couldn't help but wonder how we'd ended up like this. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the glow of his phone screen—WhatsApp messages from the same contact with a heart emoji, clearly from Kayla.

"Austin, where are you? I'm craving pastries from Florian's Bakery.

"You skipped work to take care of me—won't Eloise get jealous? If she gets upset, I'll feel so guilty."

Florian's Bakery. So those pastries he always recommended, the ones he'd wait in line for, were actually his beloved crush's favorites.

I used to be quiet and reserved, but somewhere along the way, Austin turned me into someone irritable and quick-tempered.

He often came home at dawn, sometimes not at all, and whenever I was upset, he'd turn it around and blame me.

"I work my tail off every day, staying late at the office is perfectly normal! I'm doing all this for you, for our family."

At first, every time he said that, guilt gnawed at me. I thought I was just overthinking it.

But he wasn't as clever as he thought. I knew the truth—he wasn't working late or out networking. He was with Kayla.

Austin set a cup of supplement drink in front of me, putting on a show of tenderness.

"Drink up."

The supplement drink had been prescribed by a doctor long ago; every time I gave blood, he'd make me drink it, worried I'd be too weak for the next donation.

After I found out I was pregnant, I stopped, afraid it might hurt the baby.

Now, watching him go through the motions, I had no appetite at all. I shook my head. "I don't want it. Just pour it out."

Austin's face darkened. He twisted my body toward him, trying to force me to drink.

"If you're not healthy, you need to take care of yourself. Stop being unreasonable."

The bitter, strange smell brought back memories of all those times I'd forced myself to drink it after donating blood. My stomach turned.

"I said I don't want it! Ugh—"

I couldn't hold back the nausea. Tears stung my eyes, and my face grew even paler.

Austin jumped up, furious, his voice harsh.

"Eloise! Stop being so ungrateful. I skipped work just to make sure you drank your supplement—isn't that enough? Can't you just listen for once?

"It's just a blood donation for Kayla! Why do you have to make such a fuss? Kayla's my good friend, she's not well—what's the harm in you giving blood a few times?

"I put work aside to comfort you, and you walk all over me. I've been too good to you, that's why you think you can get away with anything!"

His temper flared, and he slammed the cup down.

Shards sliced my cheek and arm, but the pain in my abdomen was worse.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "That's not what I meant. I don't care about you and Kayla, I just—"

Before I could finish, another wave of pain twisted through my stomach, making me retch, though I hadn't eaten anything—only sour bile came up.

Austin recoiled in disgust, stepping back and snapping, "Eloise, can't you control yourself? That's disgusting. Why can't you just be a decent wife?

"You can't have kids, you can't take care of the house—what good are you to me?

"You're such a disappointment."

His words were merciless, blunt, and cruel.

If he'd cared about me at all, he would've noticed something was wrong.

But he didn't, and I didn't need him to anymore.

I wiped my mouth with a tissue, brushing him off. "Whatever you say."

Without another glance, I headed for my room, Austin's angry shouts echoing behind me.

"Eloise, can you stop making trouble every single day? I regret marrying you. You can't even give me a child, and all you do is make my life miserable.

"Go clean up, and don't call me unless it's important. I don't want to see you."

The front door slammed, and silence settled over the house.

I lay on my bed, mind blank, and eventually drifted into a heavy sleep.

When I checked my phone, there wasn't a single message from him, but I saw Kayla's latest Instagram post.

A candid photo of Austin, captioned, "Life is hard, but at least I have you."

The first comment was from Austin, "It won't be hard as long as I'm here."

I calmly closed Instagram and called my doctor to confirm my appointment.

Some ties should have been cut long ago. Loving myself is the only right choice.

The next day, I clutched my medical report and called my best friend.

Just as I hung up and looked up, I suddenly saw Austin. Our eyes met, and for a moment, we both froze.

I thought he'd come looking for me, and I was about to speak, but then I caught sight of the person behind him. I couldn't help but laugh at myself for being so naive.

A flash of panic crossed Austin's face, but he quickly composed himself and stepped in front of Kayla, his expression sour.

"So now you're following me? Throwing tantrums at home wasn't enough for you?"

Before I could respond, Kayla stepped forward and wrapped her arm around his, her voice sweet and pleading. "Austin, don't be so angry. Look at Eloise—she's so pale. Maybe she's sick. Don't misunderstand her.

"Eloise, I haven't been feeling well, so Austin came to take care of me. You're so generous, I'm sure you wouldn't make a fuss over something so trivial, right?"

Her innocent look made it seem like she was explaining herself, but I knew she was trying to provoke me.

I didn't care anymore. My tone was calm, almost detached.

"Why would I be upset? Isn't it your job to take care of her, Austin?"

I smiled, showing no sign of anger, but Austin's face suddenly darkened.

He stared at me, as if trying to read my mind, but I wasn't bothered in the least.

I walked right past them, heading to the pharmacy to pick up my medication.

"If there's nothing else, I'll be going."

I hadn't gotten far when Austin caught up and blocked my way, his eyes fixed on the report in my hand.

"What's wrong with you? When did this start? Why didn't you tell me?"

I ignored him and tried to keep walking, but he grabbed my arm.

I shook him off, my voice cold. "It's nothing. It doesn't concern you."

But Austin wouldn't let me go, his tone tense, almost pleading.

"Eloise, I know I've been neglecting you lately, but it's not just my fault. You've been unreasonable from the start.

"And as your husband, you shouldn't keep it from me when you're sick."

He reached for the report, but before he could grab it, a pair of hands shoved him away.

My best friend, Mindy Siebert, rushed over and stood protectively in front of me.

"What do you think you're doing? Eloise, how could you marry such a jerk? I'm not letting him get away with it today."

Austin stumbled back, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

Mindy had always been fiercely loyal, her temper short and fiery—she had never liked Austin.

Her relentless tirade quickly clued everyone in to what was happening.

"What the hell? His wife just had a miscarriage, and now he's forcing her to donate blood to his mistress?"

"Scumbag. He's trash. Guys like him don't deserve a family."

Austin's face turned ashen, humiliated, and his anger boiled over.

"Crazy. No wonder you two are friends—just a pair of lunatics, biting anyone who gets close."

In the chaos, Kayla was shoved and slammed into the wall with a shriek.

Seeing his precious girl hurt, Austin snapped and kicked out at Mindy.

"Bitch! How dare you touch Kayla!"

Seeing what was about to happen, I rushed forward to shield Mindy, only to take the full force of Austin's kick in my stomach. I gasped from the pain.

Agony twisted through my abdomen, and I curled up, clutching my belly.

The pain was so intense I nearly blacked out, and blood began to pour out.

The crowd panicked, shouting for a doctor. Even Austin abandoned Kayla and rushed over, frantic.

"Why did you get in the way? Why are you bleeding...?"

I could barely breathe, the emotional and physical torment of the past days pushing me to the brink.

Ignoring the hands trying to help me, I forced myself to shove Austin away, slamming the medical report into his chest. I couldn't hold back my scream. "You wanted to know what's wrong with me? Look for yourself! Open your damn eyes and read it!"

"I had a miscarriage! Do you see it now?"

Austin stared at the report, eyes wide, disbelief etched across his face. His voice broke with desperation.

"No, no, that can't be true. Babe, tell me it's fake. Tell me this isn't real!"

"That's just something Mindy made up, right? It can't be true!"

"Honey, please, tell me..."