Three Years in Europe for Everyone—Except His Pregnant Wife Chapter 01

Three Years in Europe for Everyone—Except His Pregnant Wife Chapter 01

My husband Ethan Grant was getting posted to Paris for a three-year work assignment.

His company offered a rare perk: he could bring up to three people with him.

As the dutiful wife, I’d gotten everything sorted well in advance. But two days before their departure, he hit me with his decision.

“Spots are limited. Rae’s going this time. My parents love having her around.”

“You’re pregnant. Paris would be too much for you right now. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on the house and take care of the trees while we’re gone.”

“Three years will go by fast. Just wait for us to get back, okay?”

The Rae he meant was his childhood best friend.

Cold dread coiled tight in my chest.

Five years of marriage suddenly felt like a cheap, cruel joke. Empty. Pointless.

I didn’t yell. I didn’t start a fight. I stayed totally calm.

I just slipped two documents inside Ethan’s suitcase: a divorce petition and my abortion procedure paperwork.

If he wouldn’t cherish our marriage, I’d be the one to shut it down for good.

…

The abortion left me completely worn-out. I stayed in bed to rest up.

Ethan walked into the bedroom, eyes glued to his phone, barely glancing my way. His tone was lazy and off-hand.

“My parents are coming over. Rae’s gonna show up soon too. Fix extra food for dinner.”

It wasn’t a request. He ordered me like I was household staff.

He still had no idea I’d gotten an abortion two hours earlier.

We’d been married five years. My hours were flexible, nothing like his non-stop busy job.

So cooking and housework had all landed on my shoulders.

At first, he’d felt guilty. He’d even been grateful.

Somewhere down the line, he’d taken all of it for granted. Doing his laundry, cooking his meals—they’d just become my responsibility.

This marriage was like a soda can.

Fizzy and bright right when you pop the top. Slowly, every bit of fizz leaks out, leaving nothing but flat, stale liquid.

My face was pale from blood loss, and my voice turned icy.

“Can’t you handle it yourself?”

He finally lifted his eyes toward me, but his focus was still not fully on my face.

He tossed out a lazy reply.

“I can’t cook.”

“You’re the one who handles that stuff.”

His words cut deep. Before I could fire back, Ethan’s phone started ringing.

“Rae, yeah. I’ll swing by the mall to pick you up. Just stay right there for me.”

His tone softened instantly, like he was comforting a little kid.

Not one extra glance for me. He spun around and walked out.

Right after he left, my mother-in-law knocked and stepped inside my room.

“Yvonne, it’s dark out. Why’re you still lying in bed?”

“Get up and make dinner. Rae’s eating with us tonight.”

“She loves braised short ribs, nice and tender. That dish takes forever to cook. You need to get moving.”

My in-laws didn’t live with us normally. They shared a home with Rae Summers.

I’d learned about Rae only after our wedding.

It wasn’t just Ethan who doted on her. My in-laws treated her far better than they treated me.

Every single time I brought up even a small complaint, they pulled the same excuse.

Rae’s parents had died young. They’d promised the late couple they’d watch over Rae.

Ethan had reassured me over and over. To him, Rae was nothing more than family.

Then came this three-year overseas work posting. His company gave three family travel slots.

I’d assumed he’d bring his parents and me.

Instead, he planned to bring Rae.

That was when I finally saw exactly where I ranked in his life.

Staring at my mother-in-law’s entitled expression, I dropped every bit of polite respect I’d always given her.

“I’m not cooking. If you guys want food, make it yourselves.”

“You!” She huffed, acting as if I was getting high and mighty just because I was pregnant. “Don’t get so delicate just ’cause you’re expecting.”

“A little light activity’s good for pregnant women.”

A cold smile tugged at my lips.

One month earlier, Rae had caught a cold.

When she left our house, Ethan’s mother fussed non-stop. She said Rae was dizzy and too weak to walk, and told Ethan to carry her home on his back.

But only two days ago, she’d watched me crippled by brutal morning sickness. Cooking fumes made me heave until I threw up bile.

Even carrying Ethan’s child, I was still an outsider in this house.

Practically an unpaid maid.