He Called My Sugar Allergy Jealousy—So I Made Him My Ex Chapter 05

He Called My Sugar Allergy Jealousy—So I Made Him My Ex Chapter 05

“Miscarriage?” Derek sounded confused. “That’s impossible. My wife isn’t pregnant.”

“We’re not making this up. You need to get to the hospital. The patient needs surgery immediately.”

After hanging up, Derek hesitated for a long time.

But thinking about how I’d looked at home, he decided to go to the hospital and see for himself.

By the time he arrived, I was already in the operating room fighting for my life.

“You’re the patient’s family, right? What’s your relationship to Clara?”

“I’m her husband.”

The nurse nodded and began explaining my condition.

“Your wife is in critical condition. Severe anaphylactic shock, major blood loss. We may not be able

to save the baby.”

“She needs a blood transfusion. What’s your blood type?”

ver. He just stared at her.

ng my wife miscarried? She wasn’t ever pregnant. How’s that possible?”

e nurse looked frustrated.

“Your wife was seven months pregnant. You didn’t know?”

She handed him my medical records.

“The baby’s fully developed. At this stage, a miscarriage’s extremely dangerous and could seriously harm the mother. You need to get your blood type checked right away.”

Derek froze when he saw the word “pregnant” on the report.

“She really was pregnant? She really was?”

“She never lied to me. What have I-”

He suddenly remembered the way I’d begged him earlier. And how he’d kept assuming I was

faking it.

“What have I done?”

Derek was shaking. Before he could even process what he’d done, someone grabbed him.

“Wait. Officer, there must be some mistake. I havent broken any laws.”

The officer looked him over.

“You’re Derek Hale, right? Clara Whitmore’s husband?”

Derek hesitated, then nodded.

“Then we’ve got the right guy. The hospital reported you.”

“They got a 911 call and rushed to the scene, but you blocked them and kept interfering.”

“Later, we found your wife covered in blood outside your apartment.”

The officer didn’t waste another word on him. He cuffed him and put him in the squad car.

At the station, Derek kept running his mouth.

“Officer, I didn’t lock up or hurt my

wife.”

“Couples fight all the time. How’s that assault?”

The officer had clearly heard enough. He pulled out my medical report.

“Severe anaphylactic shock. Multiple soft–tissue injuries. Ongoing nerve damage. Massive blood

loss.”

“We ran the allergy panel. It was sugar.”

Derek went rigid at the word.

“That’s impossible. The doctor said she was fine.”

The officer gave him a cold look and pulled out my previous physical report.

“I think you misheard. The doctor said she was recovering well and her glucose tolerance had

improved. Nowhere in the report does it say your wife is no longer allergic to sugar.”

“Derek, let me ask you something.”

“Do you actually care about your wife?”