My Husband Stole My Pregnancy Money to Buy His Dream Girl a Purse
Chapter 4
When the nurse wheeled me to the hospital entrance, she shot me one last worried glance.
I was about to ask Daniel to help me into the car when I realized he'd already climbed behind the wheel without looking back.
When he noticed I hadn't gotten in yet, he honked the horn impatiently.
"What's taking so long? I've got places to be."
He rolled down the window, his expression shifting when he saw the nurse struggling to support me.
The nurse's face flushed with anger, clearly outraged on my behalf.
But I knew Daniel’s temper and didn't want to cause her trouble, so I squeezed her hand gently and limped toward the car.
Once I collapsed into the passenger seat, sweat beaded on my forehead from pain and exhaustion.
When I finally caught my breath, I noticed a cutesy sticker on the dashboard:
"Mr. Wellington’s favourite girl sits HERE!"
Daniel glanced at me nervously while driving, offering a weak explanation.
“Wendy was just being playful—don't read into it."
Hearing him call twenty-five-year-old Wendy "playful" made my stomach churn.
Playful? She was a grown woman.
Too weak to argue, I turned toward the window instead.
A wave of self-loathing washed over me. How had I been so blind to waste three years on this man?
Not only had I moved into his crappy studio apartment, but I'd hidden my wealthy background to protect his fragile ego while we lived on ramen and hope.
I leaned against the window with a bitter smile as Daniel turned on music and his GPS to break the tension.
"Hey there, handsome! Your favorite girl Wendy is here to guide you home~"
Wendy’s voice purred through the car speakers in a custom navigation recording. I'd been about to close my eyes, but this was the final straw.
"Daniel, if you're going to apologize, at least put some effort into it. I didn't throw a fit about your trashy gift, so now you think you can walk all over me?"
Daniel, who'd been making awkward small talk out of guilt, froze at my outburst before his face turned ugly.
"What's your problem, Kandice? Yeah, I'm close with Wendy. But maybe you should look in the mirror first. Her family owns Zenith Pharmaceutical— She’s the princess of the Zenith Pharmaceutical and my ticket to the big leagues. What do you bring to the table? Temper tantrums?"
Daniel yanked me out of the car at a red light. Passing trucks splashed dirty puddle water across my shoes.
His words echoed in my head: Zenith Pharmaceutical Princess.
So that was it. Someone else had claimed the title I'd once found embarrassingly pretentious.
I watched his taillights disappear into traffic, feeling something cold and sharp ignite in my chest.
I struggled home and dry-swallowed a handful of painkillers with the cake I ordered.
After making my first call home in months, I finally collapsed into bed.
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