IT’S MY PRIVATE TIME, CALL 911- My Husband Blunted My 99 SOS Calls as an On-the-Job Injury Chapter 01

IT’S MY PRIVATE TIME, CALL 911- My Husband Blunted My 99 SOS Calls as an On-the-Job Injury Chapter 01

To keep our relationship a secret, my husband Jared Howard called me “Miss Wright” at work for six years.

I secured three patents for him, led four major international projects to success, and took the fall for his mistakes twice. Yet in front of the entire company, he said coldly, “That’s your job, Miss Wright. Don’t expect a medal.”

Gradually, his business-like attitude spilled over into our private life.

I suffered severe hemorrhage during a difficult labor and dialed his number ninety-nine times. All I got in return was a single text message: [Miss Wright, weekends are my personal time. If it’s an emergency, call 911. Otherwise, file it as a work comp claim.]

Then Cecilia Hill joined as an intern. She was late six times in half a month, but Jared would pat her head gently and tease, “Late again, little one?”

“Only two hours this time. Good job. Here’s a ten-thousand-dollar bonus as encouragement.”

At three in the morning, Cecilia accidentally dialed his number in her sleep. Without a second thought, he drove across half the city just to make sure she was safe.

When the promotion list came out, Jared—who never posted on social media—shared an Instagram post: From intern to Director. So proud of you, little Cecilia.

Cecilia commented right below it: Thank you for your guidance❤️.

The next day, I laid my resignation letter and the paperwork for my abortion on his desk.

He didn’t even glance at them before signing his name and sliding the papers back.

“I’ve approved this reimbursement, Miss Wright.”

***

Jared was on a call when I handed him the documents.

He signed the papers while laughing and spoke casually as he pushed them across the desk. “Miss Wright, reimbursement approved.”

Cecilia’s sweet, giggly voice came through the phone. “Hurry over, Jared. The food’s all ready.”

Jared grabbed his coat and rushed out, never sparing me a look.

I stood there staring at his retreating figure and let out a bitter laugh.

I pulled out my phone, where Cecilia had just uploaded a new Instagram post.

In the photo, she stood close beside Jared. A huge cake sat on the table between them. They made a strikingly handsome pair.

Cecilia rested a hand against her neck, deliberately showing off the diamond necklace. Her caption read: No more birthday wishes needed. All my dreams have come true.

A message popped up from her right after: [Miss Wright, it’s my birthday today. Could you wrap up the rest of the work for me~]

Ever since she started here, Cecilia had gotten three rapid promotions. After jumping from intern to Creative Director, she grew increasingly comfortable ordering me around.

I’d tried talking to Jared about how unfair it was, but he only replied flatly, “You’ve been here longer, but promotions are based on ability and client satisfaction. The clients all love Cecilia.”

I never brought it up again after that.

Today was no different. I closed the chat box and returned to my workstation. Just one final week left. I’d tie up loose ends and put these six years behind me.

I worked overtime until ten o’clock at night, when a dull ache flared up in my stomach.

I gripped the desk to steady myself, but everything went black, and I collapsed to the floor.

The office door swung open, and Jared walked in.

I reached out, desperate. “Jared… help me up.”

He never noticed me huddled in the corner. He headed straight for his executive office, slipped on his coat and sprayed on cologne.

“Finish up and head home early, Miss Wright. Cecilia and I are going to watch the riverside fireworks later.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and he was gone.

Sharp pain ripped through my lower abdomen again.

Just then, fireworks burst across the sky outside the window, lighting up the night. The sparks shifted and shaped until they formed a smiling face, with a line of words underneath: Happy birthday, little Cecilia.

The display was grand enough for the whole city to see.

I lay crumpled on the floor, overwhelmed by a tangled mix of sorrow and heartache. I fumbled for my phone and dialed 911.

The doctor frowned as he looked over my test results. “You just had an abortion. You need to be resting, not overexerting yourself. Your body can’t take this.”

I parted my lips but said nothing, forcing a weak smile.

After the IV drip finished, I leaned against the wall and slowly walked out of the examination room. Right at the door, Jared rushed past me, carrying Cecilia in his arms.

“Somebody help! She collapsed! Get a doctor in here, now!”