My Husband Stole My Pregnancy Money to Buy His Dream Girl a Purse

When Daniel finally showed up and pushed open my hospital room door, he hadn't even bothered to wipe the irritation off his face before he saw me lying there, pale and hollow-eyed.

While I had been losing our child on an operating table, this so-called father had been cooking for another woman.

And me—his girlfriend who'd supported him through years of struggling—I couldn't even get a text back.

Under the nurse's disgusted stare, Daniel shifted uncomfortably.

"Kandice, why didn't you call me about something this serious?"

I didn't answer, but the nurse raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Wellington, right? Weren’t you the one who blocked her number while she was bleeding out on this very bed?”

Daniel hated being embarrassed in public. After the nurse's blunt accusation, he shot me a murderous look.

I knew he'd blame me for making him look bad.

Once the nurse left, he dropped all pretense.

"Kandice, I was only gone for a few days on business. You couldn't even keep our baby safe?"

My lips were cracked and dry, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion.

When I didn't respond, Daniel grabbed my shoulder roughly.

His finger jabbed toward my face, voice dripping with contempt.

"What good are you anyway? I bust my ass at work to support us both. You've got some nerve glaring at me like that. Everything you spend comes from my paycheck."

I managed to part my cracked lips, not bothering to hide my contempt.

"Support us? Daniel, you're the one who begged me to quit my job and focus on this pregnancy. Cut the act. Business trip? More like a booty call."

Maybe my expression looked too broken, because Daniel backed off slightly.

"I just needed that money for an investment opportunity. How was I supposed to know you'd lose the baby today? Besides, that investment just got me promoted to regional manager. We're finally going to be comfortable."

I let out a bitter laugh as he pulled out his phone, pretending he was about to pay the hospital bill—only to see that it had already been paid.

“My friend covered it,” I said flatly, too exhausted to even look at him.

I sank back into the pillows, too drained to even look at his twisted expression.