My husband abandoned me after he recovered

I pushed open the heavy door to Room 402.

No alarms blared. No nurses rushed around with bags of plasma.

Eddy sat propped against a mountain of plush hospital pillows, a rosy flush on her cheeks. She giggled, pointing at a glossy baby furniture catalog in my mother’s hands. My father stood by the window, leisurely peeling an orange.

Owen sat on the edge of the mattress. He held Eddy’s hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Over my diamond ring.

"You took your time," Mother snapped, glancing up from the catalog.

"I thought she was dying," I said.

A doctor in a white coat calmly pulled a syringe from Eddy’s arm, pressing a cotton ball over the tiny prick. "Just a routine iron check," the doctor murmured, packing up his tray. "Rest up, Miss Brown."

The door clicked shut behind him.

Eddy’s smile vanished. Her bottom lip trembled. She shrank back against the headboard, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

"Why is she looking at me like that?" Eddy whimpered.

Owen’s head snapped toward me. His jaw locked. "Nancy, stop staring at her."

"I haven't said a single word," I told him.

"You told me she needed an emergency transfusion," I added, staring at the empty fruit basket on the bedside table.

Owen didn't flinch. "I said she had anemia. I needed you here in case her levels dropped."

"You demanded I come bleed for her," I corrected.

"Keep your voice down," Father warned from the corner. "You're upsetting her."

Eddy sniffled. She pushed the catalog away. "I don't want her blood anyway, Owen. It's tainted. She hates me."

"No one is taking your blood today, Nancy," Mother said, her tone laced with condescension. "Just sit in the corner and wait until the doctor gives the all-clear."

"I'm leaving," I said. I turned toward the door.

"Stop right there," Owen commanded. He stood up. "You don't leave until I say you leave."

"You don't own me anymore," I told him. "I signed your papers."

"You still owe me," Owen shot back. "You ruined my morning. You upset my pregnant fiancé. You will sit in that chair and wait."

"Fiancé?" I asked.

Eddy held up her left hand. The diamond caught the overhead lights. "He proposed right after you left the house."

"Congratulations," I said flatly. "I'm leaving."

"Liar!" Eddy shrieked. She grabbed her swollen belly, her knuckles turning white. "Ah! Owen, it hurts! My stomach!"

She doubled over, burying her face in the sheets.

Mother dropped the catalog. "Eddy! Sweetheart, what is it?"

"Doctor!" Father bellowed, sprinting into the hallway.

Owen bolted upright. He closed the distance between us in two strides and grabbed my wrist. His fingers dug fiercely into my pulse point.

"What did you do?" he snarled.

"Let go of me," I demanded, yanking my arm. His grip only tightened.

"If you stressed her into a miscarriage, I will end you," Owen swore, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

"I stood by the door!"

"Your jealousy is toxic," Mother hissed, hovering over Eddy. "You came here just to curse your sister."

Nurses rushed in with a gurney. They shoved past me, transferring a weeping Eddy onto the cart. Owen released my wrist, leaving angry red marks on my skin. He followed the stretcher out, not sparing me a single glance.

Twenty minutes later, the ER doctor stepped into the waiting area.

"The fetus is perfectly healthy," the doctor announced. "Her vitals are stable. It was likely just a spike in anxiety."

Mother exhaled loudly, clutching Father’s arm.

Owen turned to me. His eyes held zero warmth. He reached into his tailored jacket and pulled out a leather-bound checkbook. He uncapped a pen with his teeth and scribbled a string of numbers.

He ripped the paper free and threw it at my chest.

It fluttered to the linoleum floor. Fifty thousand dollars.

"Take the money and leave this city," Owen ordered. "Don't ever show your face near my family again."

I stared at the slip of paper. Then, I laughed. A dry, scraping sound that echoed in the quiet corridor.

Mother frowned. "Are you hysterical?"

"Your family," I repeated, looking at Owen. "I wiped your vomit off my clothes. I fed you when your hands shook too much to hold a spoon. Now, I'm a biohazard to your family."

"Don't play the victim, Nancy," Owen replied. "You have nothing. No shares, no husband, no family. This is charity."

"It's hush money," I said. "You want me gone so your precious reputation doesn't take a hit when people find out you knocked up your sister-in-law while still married."

Owen stepped closer. He lowered his voice. "If you stay, I will make your life a living hell. I will blacklist you from every firm, every restaurant, every coffee shop in this city. You will starve."

"Keep your dirty money," I told him.

"You're a nuisance," Owen corrected. "Security!"

Two guards in gray uniforms stepped out from the elevator bay.

"This woman is harassing a pregnant patient," Owen told them. "Remove her."

The guards didn't hesitate. One grabbed my left bicep, the other my right.

"I can walk," I snapped.

They ignored me, dragging me backward down the hall. I didn't fight them. Fighting required energy I no longer possessed.

They shoved me through the sliding glass doors. I stumbled down the concrete steps and hit the pavement hard.

Rain slammed into my back. Puddles soaked through my jeans. I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, the rough asphalt tearing the skin off my palms.

I reached into my pocket. My phone screen was black. Dead battery.

My bank cards were frozen. I had no cash. I didn't even have a coat.

I sat back on my heels, letting the storm batter me. The cold seeped into my bones, freezing the last shred of hope I held for the people I once loved.

Tires hissed against the wet pavement.

The same long, black Maybach from my parents' street rolled to a stop just inches from my knees. The headlights cut through the downpour, blinding me for a second.

The rear door swung open.

A black umbrella bloomed in the dark. The rain stopped hitting my face.

A pair of polished Oxford shoes stepped onto the asphalt, stopping right in front of me.

"I offered you a ride an hour ago," the deep, sharp voice said. "You chose to come here instead."

I tilted my head back.

The umbrella shielded us from the streetlights, casting his face in shadow. But the sharp angle of his jaw and those piercing, ice-blue eyes were unmistakable.

Jasper Blackwood.

The heir to the Blackwood empire. The man who ruthlessly dismantled his competitors, swallowed corporations whole, and made Owen sweat during every quarterly earnings call.

"Is it worth ruining yourself over a piece of trash like him?" Jasper asked.

He stood tall, the tailored lines of his dark suit completely dry.

Jasper tilted the umbrella slightly, offering me his hand.

"Get up, Nancy," he commanded softly. "We have a company to destroy."

I stared at his outstretched hand. The rain poured around us, isolating us in a small circle of silence. If I took his hand, there was no going back. I would be declaring war on the Brown family.

I placed my bleeding palm into his.