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After My Husband Chose His First Love Over Me Novel Cover

After My Husband Chose His First Love Over Me

For three years, Chloe cherished her marriage to Eric, only to be shattered when his former flame returned. Forced to choose, Eric prioritized his first love, leaving a pregnant Chloe in the wake of his cold betrayal. After a devastating accident and a narrow escape from death, she severs all ties. Years later, Chloe returns as a powerful, stunning woman, leaving Eric desperate for a second chance she no longer intends to give him.
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Chapter 2

Though I was determined to see Arturo's true nature, my heart still twisted painfully as the call ended.

Arturo wasn't wrong about feeling superior; I did pursue him first.

We met at a party. Arturo was a rising star at the hospital, and I was the daughter of a leading medical device company. I fell for him instantly, starting a long chase.

An old saying goes that a woman's pursuit of a man is like a veil, easy to lift. But that didn't apply to me. I chased Arturo for two years, confessing dozens of times. His emotions were unpredictable, warm one day and cold the next, leaving me puzzled about his true feelings.

Eventually, I grew tired. I decided to give up and planned to study abroad. But Arturo stopped me at the stairwell.

"Zendaya, why did you stop pursuing me?" he asked. "I won't let you give up."

After kissing me, he held me close, breathing heavily in my ear. His sudden confession upended all my plans, leading me to cancel my flight to the Alps the next day.

Arturo came from a humble background. To protect his pride, I moved out of my family’s mansion into his rented apartment. When I decided to marry him, my family advised against it. But Arturo was worth it, and I chose love over comfort.

Since Arturo had no savings, we only got a marriage certificate without a wedding ceremony.

"Zendaya, wait for me. I want to earn and give you the grandest wedding myself, to prove to everyone that I can make it!" he'd say.

"You’ve been through so much," he murmured many nights, holding me tight and making promises over and over.

I responded with passionate kisses, believing I was the happiest woman alive.

Until Luciana appeared.

After losing her baby abroad, Luciana suffered severe depression and became Arturo's patient when she returned home.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. But slowly, Arturo's attention drifted away from me; his world now held more than just his work and our home, increasingly filled by Luciana.

Luciana caught a cold; I’ll take her to the hospital for an IV drip. Sorry, I won’t make it to tonight’s Thanksgiving dinner—please tell Dad for me.

Luciana's moving today; she has no family or friends here. I’ll help her out.

Luciana's emotions are unstable today, and I’m worried about leaving her alone at home; I won't be coming back tonight.

Arturo grew increasingly distant, his excuses more flimsy each time. We argued about this, but whenever I brought up Luciana, he'd react defensively, as if struck.

He accused me of being petty and unreasonable.

"Luciana’s my patient; is it wrong for me to care for her more?"

"Zendaya, I think you're bored being a housewife, and that’s why you imagine these things. I already work hard to support you; can you stop making things difficult?"

A housewife? Causing trouble?

Arturo, I wasn’t born to be a nuisance, an unwanted housewife.

Once, I dreamed of becoming a top-tier designer but now find myself tied to household chores and fighting over you with another woman. And why?

Because of you, I gave up on my dreams.

Time has faded everything. Arturo’s forgotten what was once important, leaving only criticism and disappointment for me.

After each argument, I apologized first, seeking peace. Caught in this cycle, I gradually accepted everything—choosing to step back and endure.

After all, my love for Arturo was undeniable.

I thought as long as I avoided the truth, as long as I didn't tear everything apart, Arturo would still be mine—that we'd remain the perfect couple to everyone else.

I realize now how terribly wrong I was.

My tolerance emboldened Luciana, diminishing my importance to Arturo.

At this wedding, Arturo, the groom, abandoned me for Luciana.

I can't forget the disappointment when Arturo's phone didn’t connect, the guests' sympathetic and mocking glances, the sorrow in my parents' eyes as they arrived dressed for the occasion.

Arturo, no matter how much it pains me, this is where we end.

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