I Worked 18 Years for His Son, He Pushed Me Off a Roof for Her Chapter 07

I Worked 18 Years for His Son, He Pushed Me Off a Roof for Her Chapter 07

“And let me tell you something — she’s no innocent either! She came on to me on our wedding night. She was in our bed before you ever was!!!”

The room exploded. Even the officers stared. Behind them, the relatives looked like their jaws had hit the floor.

“Oh my God. Clara was the victim all along.”

“He was cheating from day one — and they had the nerve to act like they treated her like family.”

“That’s how they guilt-tripped her into staying. It’s manipulation — pure and simple!”

“Julian!” Fiona launched herself at him, her fists pounding against his chest. “Shut your mouth! How dare you talk about me like that!”

“You were the maid of honor at your own best friend’s wedding — and you crawled into bed with the groom! What does that make you?”

“I had your baby! And this is how you repay me?!”

Julian fired back without thinking. “That kid is a money pit! Do you have any idea how much leukemia treatment costs? You think I wanted to fake my own death and scam Clara? I had no choice! I’m not the villain here — you are!”

“You were jealous of Clara from the start because she’s better than you in every way. You went after me on purpose! You weren’t even wearing underwear the first time we met!”

They tore into each other like animals, screaming, clawing. I sat there watching, and the thing I felt wasn’t satisfaction. It was something closer to pity — for myself.

My husband and my best friend. The two people closest to me in the world. Both rotten to the core. What did that say about me?

A sharp pain twisted through my abdomen. Warmth spread between my legs. All the blood drained from my face, and I gripped the chair as my knees buckled.

“Clara!” Julian’s aunt spotted it first and caught me before I hit the floor. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

Julian and Fiona froze mid-fight, both turning to stare.

Someone gasped. “Oh God — is she miscarrying?”

“Get her to a hospital — now!”

“This is Julian’s fault — all of this. What a nightmare.”

The edges of the room were going dark. I found the female officer’s hand and held on, forcing every word out while I still could.

“I want to press charges. All of them — Julian, Martha, Arthur. No deals. Push for the maximum. Promise me.”

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The physical pain had dulled, but a deep, hollow emptiness had taken its place.

I felt the absence — something that had been alive inside me, connected to me, gone. The doctor sighed and handed me the chart.

“The trauma was too severe. Between the physical impact and the stress… I’m sorry. The baby didn’t make it.”

My hand drifted to my stomach. The tears came quiet and cold, sliding down without stopping, but somewhere underneath them — the smallest smile. Maybe this was better.

Maybe she’d already decided. She didn’t want Julian for a father. She didn’t want to be a Thorne.

The door swung open. Someone hurried to my bedside, fussing, pulling up a chair, pressing a cup of water into my hands.

“Clara, are you okay?”

Julian. One night had hollowed him out — hollow eyes, patchy stubble darkening his jaw, the cockiness stripped away.

He hovered over me like a man who’d never done a single wrong thing. A stranger walking in would’ve thought he was husband of the year.

Martha followed, wearing a smile so forced it looked painted on. She set a lunchbox on the bedside table and opened the lid — beef stew, steaming, filled to the rim.

“Arthur went out of his way to go to the butcher, and I made this stew from scratch. Eat while it’s warm — you need to get your strength back.”

Arthur nodded along. “She’s right — don’t worry about the baby. Maybe it just… wasn’t meant to be.”

“You’re still young. You and Julian have plenty of time. A baby will come when it comes — no pressure.”