After His Mistress Made Me Miscarry, I Finally Stopped Loving Him

My boyfriend's mistress deliberately gave me a strawberry cake that I'm allergic to.

After I went into anaphylactic shock and had a miscarriage, I knew it was all over.

But when I left it all behind and went back to my hometown, he showed up at my door telling me to quit throwing a fit, that he still loved me.

This kind of love full of betrayal?

I don't want it.

1

"Ada, aren't you being a bit dramatic?"

Nathaniel Price's voice was cold and harsh, clearly annoyed.

I clutched my throat, feeling my airway rapidly constricting.

The sickly sweet taste of strawberry cake was still stuck on my tongue, but I couldn't breathe, and angry red hives were exploding across my skin.

"Mr. Price, I'm sorry, I forgot it was strawberry..." Cindy Ward grabbed Nathaniel's sleeve, her eyes red. "I really didn't mean to."

"It's fine, you didn't know she was so delicate." Nathaniel patted Cindy's shoulder reassuringly, "She's just looking for trouble on purpose. For all we know, she ate that strawberry cake herself."

"Wait..." I struggled to speak, my throat feeling like it was being scraped with sandpaper, "I need... to go to the hospital..."

Nathaniel stopped, somewhat angry. "Everyone in the company knows you're allergic to strawberries. Couldn't you check before eating? Ada, stop blaming others for everything, and don't use these stupid tricks on me. You know I hate being manipulated!"

I wanted to explain that Cindy said it was mango flavored when she handed me the cake, but my throat was too swollen to speak.

"Mr. Price, Ada seems really uncomfortable..." Cindy said quietly.

"She's faking it." Nathaniel sneered, "Let's go, we'll be late for the meeting."

He took Cindy's hand and left the break room.

I slid down the wall to the floor, using all my strength to press the emergency number on my phone.

Before losing consciousness, I heard colleagues rushing in with cries of alarm.

The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've been dead.

The worst part? I lost a baby I didn't even know I had.

...

After emergency treatment at the hospital, I dragged my weak body home once I was stable.

The living room light was off. Nathaniel wasn't back yet.

I mechanically walked to the bedroom. As I was about to change clothes, I noticed the nightstand drawer was half open.

Inside lay a box of condoms.

I froze.

Nathaniel and I hadn't had sex in a month.

And this box of condoms was missing three.

For once, I didn't pick up that box to confront him.

Instead, I closed the drawer.

My phone buzzed. A message from headhunter Jack Phillips: [Ada, Century Financial is very impressed with your resume. Can we arrange an interview tomorrow?]

I looked at the message, remembering three years ago.

Back then, I'd just gotten an offer from Century Financial and excitedly told Nathaniel. His face darkened. "That place works you till dawn every night. You really think you can handle that? Besides, I need a girlfriend who can actually take care of things at home, not some workaholic."

I hesitated for just a second before turning down that job.

Looking back now, I gave up career prospects for love...

How ridiculous.

I replied to Mr. Phillips: [Yes, I can interview tomorrow.]

2

Nathaniel came home close to eleven.

He casually tossed his suit jacket on the sofa, then started laughing at his phone, his expression tender.

I'd made him soup and reminded him once.

An hour passed.

He saw the soup on the table and frowned. "Why haven't you cleaned up your leftovers? Do I need to tell you this?"

"It's not leftovers, I just made it. I reminded you earlier," I explained.

"It's completely cold now, throw it out." He didn't look up, his fingers rapidly sliding across his phone screen, a smile on his lips.

I looked at the two blisters on my hands from making the soup.

"Okay, got it."

Nathaniel finally glanced at me, clearly dissatisfied. "Ada, this morning you played games, got caught by me, and now you're acting weird. You're really disgusting."

"It won't happen again."

"Yeah, it better not." He responded dismissively, looking back at his phone.

I turned toward the study, opened my computer, and started writing my resignation letter.

"I'm going to shower." Nathaniel got up, took a couple steps, then stopped. "Oh, and that whole strawberry allergy thing... Just be more careful next time, don't give Cindy a hard time. She's new at the company, still learning the ropes."

So he actually knew the problem wasn't with me, but he still didn't care.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, unable to type a single word.

My phone suddenly buzzed.

Cindy had posted a new update on Instagram.

The caption read "A happy day" with two images.

The first was a screenshot of Nathaniel apologizing to Cindy because he was five minutes late and didn't get her the lunch box in time.

Cindy replied: [No need to apologize, I already felt the love.]

The second was Cindy's selfie, holding up an elegant lunch box, smiling sweetly.

Before I could like it, Cindy had already sent me the same images.

Followed immediately by another message: [Oops! Ada, my bad, wrong person!]

I replied: [Saw it, very sweet.]

Sweet couples never have room for a third person.

First come, first served doesn't seem to matter much in love.

I started packing my things.

Eight years of relationship fit into three cardboard boxes.

Photos, couple charms, every gift he'd given me—treasures I once thought I'd keep forever.

"You spring cleaning or something?" Nathaniel leaned against the doorframe, couldn't really see what was in the boxes, and said casually, "Yeah, about time to toss this junk out."

Junk?

Indeed, time to clear it out.

"Okay."

I carried the boxes downstairs and sat on a bench.

The moonlight was bright, illuminating the fallen leaves on the ground.

Over these eight years, we'd had countless cold wars. Every time, I was the first to back down, humbly seeking reconciliation.

Just today alone, how many times had I said "okay"?

Okay, I got it.

Okay, no problem.

Okay.

Everything was okay.

I couldn't help but think of Cindy saying today was happy.

I looked up at the moon, forcing my lips into a smile.

"Yeah, it was a happy day, everything's fine."

Except for the child I lost to an allergic reaction.

But now, none of it mattered anymore.

I smiled at the thought—once I left, I'd be okay too.

But why were tears still falling?