Eight months pregnant, I was forced to kneel on the cold marble floor in the snowy night, all because my husband’s childhood sweetheart falsely accused me of killing his mother. Alexander Foster, my husband, was in the glass greenhouse warming the frozen feet of his sweetheart, his expression full of doting affection. I caught a chill and my water broke. I was rushed to the emergency room, but Alexander accused me of acting weak. I suffered severe bleeding and faced a life-threatening situation, yet Alexander callously signed a life-or-death agreement: “As long as the child can be saved, there’s no need to rescue Olivia if she dies.” However, I gave birth to a stillborn child and fell into postpartum depression, while my husband was accompanying his sweetheart for prenatal checkups. To please his sweetheart, on my birthday, Alexander even forced me to eat the placenta raw. “You killed my mother. This is the retribution you deserve.” It turned out that the love and marriage I had been guarding was nothing but my own wishful thinking. Filled with endless anger and humiliation, I decided to seek revenge.
After the delivery, I was extremely weak due to severe blood loss. Lying on the hospital bed, I took the medical notification handed to me by the doctor. The words “No signs of life after the fetus was delivered” jumped out at me, and I was struck as if by lightning: After severe hemorrhaging, I had given birth to a stillborn child?! Struggling to sit up despite the tearing pain in my body, I asked the doctor in a hoarse voice: “Doctor, is my child really dead? Please, let me see the baby one last time…” The doctor, wearing a mask, looked at me coldly and said, “The child is already dead. There’s no need to see it.” Dark red placental tissue was scattered in the cracks of the floor tiles, making me feel nauseous. I held the life-or-death agreement Alexander had signed, and anger gradually filled my heart. During the surgery, when I was barely conscious, Alexander pressed my hand to sign the “prioritize saving the baby’s life” clause. The expression he gave me was unprecedentedly cold, with a hint of mockery in his tone: “Olivia Reed, someone like you isn’t worth saving. The child in your womb is far more important than you.” I left the delivery room alone, only to see my husband Alexander Foster in the hospital’s prenatal clinic. It turned out Alexander hadn’t left the hospital early, but was accompanying his beloved sweetheart, Zoe Summers. He intimately embraced the equally pregnant Zoe, his face full of doting smiles. I had been pregnant for eight months, and Alexander had never shown me any care, but now he was attentive to every need of his sweetheart Zoe. I had been rushed to the emergency room for premature delivery due to severe bleeding. Alexander disregarded my life, signed the life-or-death agreement, and abandoned me to accompany Zoe for her checkup. I tightly gripped the life-or-death agreement in my hand, pushed open the door to the prenatal clinic, and confronted Alexander: “Alexander Foster, you are my husband. What right do you have to be here accompanying Zoe for her checkup?” Seeing me, Alexander looked as if he had seen something dirty, and a look of disgust immediately appeared on his face. Before he could speak, Zoe mockingly taunted me: “Olivia Reed, you vile woman who killed Alexander’s mother, what right do you have to come here and question us?” Again, this baseless accusation. Ever since Alexander’s mother died in an accident, Zoe had used every trick to paint me as a “murderer.” Under Zoe’s instigation, Alexander’s attitude towards me grew increasingly cold, gradually developing into disgust. And at eight months pregnant, it was because Alexander punished me by making me kneel on the cold marble floor in the snowy night that I went into premature labor with severe bleeding. Endless anger and grievance welled up, and tears burst from my eyes: “Zoe, why are you slandering me? Alexander, I really didn’t kill your mother…” But Alexander stepped forward and berated me harshly: “Olivia Reed, you vicious woman, you’re not worthy of being my wife, and you have no right to call my mother ‘Mom’!” With a loud slap, he struck me hard across the face. I looked at Alexander in shock, the slapped side of my face stinging fiercely. “Alexander, you actually hit me…” Zoe’s face bore a smug smile: “Haha, Olivia Reed, you look like a filthy beggar with your disheveled appearance!” Then she looked at my lower body with contemptuous eyes and screamed in fright: “How disgusting, get out of here!” Zoe grabbed a disposable cup from the table and threw it at me, splashing hot water on my face. Her smile grew wider and deeper: “Olivia Reed, look at yourself in the mirror now. You’re like a drowned rat!” Through the mirror in the clinic, I saw my miserable state: My hair was disheveled and soaked with scalding water, and my hospital gown was stained with dark red blood. After the severe bleeding from pregnancy, my body had suffered serious damage, and the postpartum bleeding had soiled my gown. At that moment, grievance and embarrassment welled up, and I ran out of the room in tears. In the hospital bathroom, I was shaking all over in pain. Lochia flowed from my body, dripping onto the floor to form a pool of blood. However, the real pain came from within. Alexander’s cold attitude was like a sharp knife stabbing into my heart. My true love had also been thrown into this pool of blood. Alexander, you promised to love me for a lifetime. Why did you lie to me? I could only cry out loud in the empty bathroom, letting despair occupy my heart.
After giving birth to a stillborn child, I suffered from postpartum depression, feeling gloomy all day, but Alexander was completely unaware. Because he was in the warm greenhouse taking care of the heavily pregnant Zoe. Through the translucent glass, I saw Alexander kneeling on the ground, gently massaging Zoe’s feet. I was supposed to be Alexander’s wife, yet he brazenly brought his mistress home to care for her. The glass greenhouse was Alexander’s wedding gift to me, but now I was shut out. After seeing the death certificate of the child, Alexander not only didn’t comfort me but cursed at me: “Olivia Reed, you’re a jinx. Not only did you kill my mother, but you also caused the death of your own child!” “Evil people get evil rewards. This is the retribution for all your wrongdoings!” Zoe then moved into the Foster home with the air of the true mistress. “Mrs. Foster’s last wish before she died was for Alexander to bring me into the Foster home to take care of.” “I’m the daughter-in-law truly accepted by the Foster family, while you’re just a gold digger who schemed her way into a wealthy family.” In the warm greenhouse, Alexander embraced Zoe and kissed her, both looking intoxicated. And I, because of unfounded accusations, had lost my dignity and love, becoming a “Mrs. Foster” in name only. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I fell into memories. That day, I accompanied Alexander to a family dinner, only to be met with cold stares from countless people. I had always been low-key, dressed simply. But Mrs. Foster looked me up and down coldly, her words full of sarcasm: “Olivia Reed, coming to a family dinner dressed so shabbily, aren’t you embarrassing our Foster family?” In stark contrast to me was Zoe. She walked gracefully behind Mrs. Foster in a pink dress, thoughtfully giving her a massage. “Mom, I brought you some homemade pastries. Please try them.” Mrs. Foster beamed with joy, accepting the homemade pastries from Zoe’s hand, praising Zoe incessantly for her thoughtfulness. Seeing how close they were, I could only smile awkwardly: “Mom, I also brought you some pastries. They’re imported from abroad.” Before coming, I had inquired about Mrs. Foster’s favorite pastry flavors and specially flew abroad to buy imported pastries for her. But Mrs. Foster didn’t even look at me, as if I were invisible beside her. It was the same flavor, yet I unexpectedly lost to Zoe’s homemade pastries… If I had made the pastries myself, Mrs. Foster would probably have accused me of being “stingy” and “unwilling to spend money.” I understood that gifts weren’t about their value, but about the person giving them. The Summers and Foster families were old friends, and Zoe had grown up with Alexander. Naturally, Mrs. Foster would favor her. But such differential treatment still made me extremely uncomfortable. I left the gifts and pastries and departed in distress. Zoe, however, pretended to be understanding behind my back and said: “Mom, after all, this is Olivia’s gesture of goodwill. Why don’t you try a piece…” But halfway through the family dinner, Mrs. Foster suddenly collapsed, foaming at the mouth. Alexander turned pale with fright, kneeling beside his mother to check her breathing: “Call an ambulance quickly!” When Mrs. Foster was sent to the emergency room, it was already too late, and the hospital doctors could do nothing to save her. With her dying breath, Mrs. Foster called Alexander in and, with her last words, instructed him to take good care of Zoe. The hospital’s test results came out – she had eaten pastries containing severe allergens, leading to shock and death. Alexander returned to the family dinner, slamming his fist on the table, his voice full of anger. He pointed at the opened pastries on the table and shouted, “Who brought these pastries?” Everyone present didn’t know what had happened and was too scared to make a sound. I stepped forward and, seeing the opened pastries, turned deathly pale – The opened pastries on the table were actually the imported ones I had brought for Mrs. Foster! “Alexander, these are the pastries I specially bought from abroad for your mother…” Before I could finish speaking, the cold gazes of everyone present fell upon me. Zoe furrowed her brow, walked in front of me, her voice full of disbelief: “Olivia Reed, you’re Alexander’s wife. How could you be so vicious as to want to kill his mother?” “These pastries contain concentrated peanut butter. Mrs. Foster was severely allergic to peanuts. Didn’t you know that?”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “296412”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic
Leave a Reply