I Left My Vampire Husband and Married a Better Man, Now He Regrets Everything

Elena's POV

I woke to a bone-deep cold.

The air held a faint metallic tang. The room was empty—not a single lamp had been turned on for me.

I stared at the white ceiling for a long time before it sank in that I was still alive.

Beneath me, a patch of blood had already gone cold, sticky and nauseating.

I closed my eyes. My chest felt sealed shut, but I had no tears left.

He hadn't even called a doctor.

It took everything I had to pull myself upright using the edge of the bed. My body felt hollowed out—as if everything inside me had been emptied.

I braced myself against the frozen wall and inched forward, every step like walking on nothing. My vision went black in waves, my legs barely holding, yet I kept moving down the long corridor.

I reached the stairwell—and through a half-open door, I heard their voices.

The door wasn't fully closed. Warm golden light spilled through the crack, painfully bright.

Jason's laugh was easy and indulgent—a mocking contrast to the coldness from before.

His voice was low, carrying the kind of tenderness I had spent years hoping to hear.

"Stop fussing. You'll bump the baby."

Jessica giggled, her voice soft and syrupy, layered with rehearsed dependence.

"Were you spacing out earlier? I thought you were worried about her."

Jason paused—just for a heartbeat. I held my breath.

"No."

His tone was as flat as if he were discussing the weather.

Jessica let out a small hum, sounding relieved.

"Good. I wouldn't want her dying here. That'd just be bad luck."

She paused, then laughed lightly, deliberately casual.

"But she did lose a lot of blood. You really aren't worried something might happen?"

Jason sounded almost bored. "I have a bond contract with her. It strengthens her body. She'll be fine."

He said it without a trace of emotion, like he was addressing something that barely concerned him.

A beat of silence. Then the rustle of fabric. A breath drawn close.

Jessica leaned into him, her voice dropping to a murmur. "You're too soft, you know. If it were me, I'd have kicked that barren woman out a long time ago."

Jason didn't answer. But I heard him laugh—quiet and low.

That one laugh said more than any words could.

He didn't deny it.

In that moment, the world went still.

My heart went quiet.

No anger. No grief. No urge to confront them.

I just stood there, listened to every last word, and turned away.

I walked down the stairs, one step at a time—slow, shaking with pain, but utterly certain.

It was over.

I was done with him.