He Exiled Me for Five Years to Make Room for His Mistress Chapter 03

He Exiled Me for Five Years to Make Room for His Mistress Chapter 03

I went to the hospital for a full checkup.

The doctor studied my results, his brows drawn tight.

“Ms. Harper, your condition…”

“Just tell me.”

“You have endometriosis, and your ovarian reserve has declined severely.”

The doctor adjusted his glasses.

“Your chances of conceiving naturally are close to zero.”

I gripped the report so tightly that the edge of the paper dug into my palm.

“Was it because of the work conditions?”

“Long-term high-intensity work, severe stress, and the high-desert environment all could have contributed to it.”

He paused.

“You’re still young. If you start treatment now, there may still be a chance.”

I walked out of the exam room. Several pregnant women were sitting in the hallway.

They rested their hands on their bellies, their faces glowing with happiness.

One husband crouched down and pressed his ear against his wife’s stomach, listening for the baby’s movement.

I slipped past them and pushed open the door to the stairwell.

No one was there.

I crouched down and buried my face in my knees.

I couldn’t cry.

If I cried, they won.

Three days later, Shaw Group held its annual gala.

I hadn’t planned to go, but Karen Walsh said, “You’ve been with the company for years. It won’t look good if you skip it.”

I put on a black dress and stood in a corner of the venue.

The lights were bright, and the music was loud.

Ethan walked in with Emily on his arm, and everyone immediately gathered around them.

“Congratulations, Mr. Shaw, Ms. Lane!”

“A second baby is such a blessing!”

Emily smiled and thanked them, one hand constantly resting protectively over her stomach.

Ethan held her by the waist, and the way he looked down at her was so tender it made my stomach twist.

Someone noticed me and tilted their chin in my direction.

The crowd went quiet for a brief second, then the noise started up again.

Emily walked toward me, her pregnant belly obvious beneath her dress.

“Claire, long time no see.”

I held my champagne glass.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

She touched her stomach.

“We had a private gender-reveal ultrasound. They said it’s a girl. Ethan was thrilled. He said he hopes his daughter looks like her mother.”

She looked at me and suddenly lowered her voice.

“You know, Ethan told me that if he hadn’t sent you away back then, he would have struggled with the decision for a long time.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I mean,” she said with a sweet smile, “thank you for making it possible back then. Without your sacrifice, we wouldn’t have what we have today.”

My hand started shaking.

A few drops of champagne spilled onto my dress.

“Emily,” I said, looking straight into her eyes, “do you know that when you were pregnant with your first child, I was at a subzero high-desert job site with a 104-degree fever, and I almost died?”

She blinked.

“So?”

“I called him seventeen times. He didn’t pick up once.”

“That day was our anniversary.”

She smiled.

“He was with me, helping me choose my wedding dress.”

I took a deep breath.

Then she added, “It was the limited-edition Vera Wang gown with pearl embroidery at the waist.”

I had tried on that exact dress five years ago.

Back then, Ethan had said, “When we get married, we’ll buy this one.”

Now I realized I had never been part of that “we.”

I set down my glass and turned to leave.

At some point, Ethan had appeared behind me.

He looked at me with a conflicted expression.

“Claire…”

“Don’t say my name.”

I said, “It makes me sick.”

I walked out of the banquet hall. Outside, rain was falling.

I stood beneath the awning and watched the curtain of rain blur the city into a gray haze.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

Ethan had followed me out.

He held out an umbrella.

“Take it. You’ll get sick.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

He was silent for a moment.

“I know you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

I said, “I just think I wasted five years on a dog like you.”

“Those five years…”

“Those five years,” I cut him off, “I worked sixteen hours a day at that high-desert field site. My period stopped for three months, and my hair came out in handfuls. I endured it because I kept thinking that when I came home, I would finally marry you.”

His face went pale.

“And you,” I said with a laugh, “spent those same five years getting married, having a child, and now expecting a second one.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What good does sorry do?”

I stared at him.

“Ethan, you don’t even deserve my hatred. You just make me feel like a joke.”

The rain grew heavier.

He opened the umbrella and tried to angle it over me.

I pushed his hand away and walked into the rain.

The water was freezing, and it soaked me through.