Love Died Before I Did

She's Pregnant

Christian and I had been together for years. My body was never the kind that conceived easily, so when I first became pregnant, I didn't even notice.

When I saw the news showing him and Jasmine coming out of a hotel like a couple that'd just had a steamy session, I charged right into his company and raised hell.

The employees thought it was a joke. Christian, with his inflated need of ego-stroking, thought I was an embarrassment. For one week he didn't return home, and rumors caught up to me.

"Is Mr. Helmley getting a divorce?"

"He's rich and successful, but his wife hasn't stepped up in forever."

"And she's grown a lot older this year. Wrinkles all over her face, and her skin's sagging. Of course her husband's leaving."

I forced myself to look the other way and kept the thoughts at bay at first, but then Christian started swapping out women like they were disposable utensils.

Perhaps I shouldn't think about that kind of past. While Christian wasn't home, I sold all the properties and supercars at low, low prices.

The agent found it surprising, but I told him to just make the sale ASAP, regardless of the price. I was thankful that Christian gave me piles of assets and jewelry back when he loved only me.

I also had a sizable amount of shares in his company. Every time we went at it back then, he would hug me like he was squeezing a teddy bear and tell me how much he loved me, again and again.

He promised he would give me the best the world had to offer and secure my future. "If I ever fall for someone else one day," he once said with a laugh, "this version of me will make sure he pays for it."

Neither of us imagined that someday would come just one year into our marriage.

…

I wanted to sell all my assets and maintain my lifestyle even after the divorce.

Six days before my flight to Asternis, I went back to the countryside.

There was a lemon garden there—rows of trees stretching under the open sky. He had given it to me for my twenty-sixth birthday.

That moment under the tree brought us our first child.

Sweet memories here, despite the fruits it held, but all I wanted to do was bid it one last goodbye.

I pushed the steel gates open. The moment I pushed open the gates, a heavy floral scent hit me—thick, overwhelming.

Jasmine.

My throat tightened. My skin reacted instantly, irritation spreading across my face.

Christian knew I was allergic to pollen. Why would he fill this place with jasmine?

The butler in the garden scurried away after she gave me a panicked look. When I tried the door, it denied me access. "Authorized personnel only."

That was bemusing.

Then the door opened. A soft, syrupy voice floated out.

"You can't keep yourself away from me, can you, honey? And I let you suck on me the whole night."

Jasmine Wood, probably. His latest and most beloved mistress.

On screen, she looked radiant. Up close, without makeup, there were traces of someone familiar—echoes of who I used to be.

That realization lingered longer than it should have.

"Ms. Wood, wrecking someone's marriage is illegal. Christian's company is going public very soon, and a scandal is the last thing he needs. If this goes out, I'm sure he'll pull back all his protection."

I tried to move past her.

Jasmine grabbed my wrist, and her eyes twinkled with smugness. "Christian gave this house to me after he took my first time."

I saw disdain in her eyes. Disdain for me. "And if the rumors are true, dancers are very… promiscuous. Most of you aren't virgins anymore."

The younger me would be incandescent after that remark, but the older me didn't argue with her.

Instead, I called Christian right away.

It went through, and Christian's tired voice said, "I just got out of a meeting. Can you please let me catch my breath? Jasmine had a hard past, so just let her have that house. It's just a countryside property, not a big deal.

"I've given you more houses than I could count. What more do you want? If you really want it, I…"

The rest of that didn't reach me. Jasmine pounced on me like a panther, and the phone fell with a clatter.

"I heard you stayed with him for eight years while he had nothing," she said. "He married you out of gratitude. Don't you think he's repaid that by now?"

Then she turned toward a camera nearby. Tears welled in her eyes as she dropped to her knees. "Please… let him go. For the sake of my child."

Christian probably noticed something, and his voice took on an element of agitation. "What'd you do to her, Natasha? I gave you everything I could, so don't push it! Damn it, can you stop being possessive for three seconds?"

A cold laugh slipped from me. "You know exactly how I feel about betrayal," I said quietly. "If she stays, I leave."

I turned toward the door. For the first time, panic entered his voice. "Wait—if you hate her that much, I'll make her go!"

My footsteps halted, and I closed my eyes. I closed my eyes and took a steady breath, pressing a hand against my chest.

Then I spoke calmly. "You're going to be a father, Christian."

Silence fell on the other end of the line.