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Rebirth After Marriage Ruin Novel Cover

Rebirth After Marriage Ruin

I smoothed my hands over the burgundy tablecloth, adjusting the centerpiece of autumn leaves and candles one last time. The Johnston family Thanksgiving dinner was always a formal affair, and as Clyde's wife, perfection was expected of me. The dining room looked immaculate—crystal glasses catching the light, fine china precisely placed, name cards in elegant calligraphy. Everything was ready except for one thing: my husband was nowhere to be found. "Has anyone seen Clyde?" I asked, forcing a smile as I addressed his parents seated in the living room. "We're almost ready to serve." "I believe he went to his study to take a call," Richard Johnston replied without looking up from his newspaper, his voice carrying that perpetual tone of disinterest he reserved for me. I nodded and slipped away from the gathering. The hallway to Clyde's study felt unusually long today, my heels clicking against the hardwood like a countdown. I placed my hand on the ornate doorknob, hesitating only briefly before turning it. The door opened silently, revealing a scene that instantly shattered my world.
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Chapter 3

I woke to the sound of Clyde's voice, harsh and demanding, outside my door.

"Leia! Get up. Elsie needs her breakfast."

My eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliar ceiling of the guest bedroom. For a moment, I forgot where I was and reached across the bed, expecting to find Clyde's warm body. Instead, my hand met cold, empty sheets. The events of the past few weeks came crashing back, and I curled into myself, fighting the wave of nausea that had become my constant companion.

"Did you hear me?" Clyde pounded on the door. "She's waiting!"

"I'll be right there," I called back, my voice thin and strained.

I dragged myself out of bed, catching my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, and my cheeks had hollowed. I placed a protective hand over my stomach, whispering a silent apology to the child growing inside me—the child Clyde refused to acknowledge as his own.

When I opened the door, Clyde was already gone. I could hear his laughter drifting from the master bedroom—my bedroom—where Elsie now slept in my place. I pulled on a robe and made my way downstairs to prepare breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, I balanced a tray loaded with fresh fruit, yogurt, whole grain toast, and herbal tea. Foods I'd researched for my own pregnancy, now being served to the woman carrying my husband's acknowledged child.

I knocked softly on the door of the master bedroom.

"Come in," Elsie called, her voice sickeningly sweet.

The sight that greeted me made my stomach turn. Elsie lounged in my bed, wearing my silk pajamas, her hand resting on her barely-there bump. Clyde sat beside her, his fingers entwined with hers, looking at her with adoration that he'd never shown me.

"Finally," Clyde said, checking his watch. "Elsie needs to eat on schedule. The baby requires proper nutrition."

I set the tray down carefully, avoiding Elsie's gaze. The face that looked back at me was still unsettling—my features grafted onto her, creating a grotesque mirror image.

"I've arranged for a selection of maternity clothes to be delivered this afternoon," Clyde continued, not looking at me. "You'll help Elsie choose what suits her best."

"Of course," I replied mechanically.

"And make sure they're comfortable," Elsie added, running her hand over her stomach. "Nothing too tight around the middle. We wouldn't want to restrict the little heir, would we?"

Clyde beamed at her. "Always thinking of our son. That's why you'll be such a wonderful mother."

I stood there, invisible, as they discussed the future of their child. My child—the one growing inside me—might as well not exist.

"That will be all, Leia," Clyde finally said, dismissing me from my own bedroom.

I nodded and turned to leave, my movements stiff and robotic.

"Oh, and Leia?" Elsie called after me. "The toast is a little too dark. Be more careful next time."

* * *

"This is insanity, Leia," Michaela said, pacing across the guest room where I now lived. "You can't stay here another day. He's treating you like a servant!"

I sat on the edge of the bed, folding laundry—Elsie's laundry. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

"You have me," Michaela insisted, stopping to grip my shoulders. "My guest room is yours for as long as you need it. Hell, we'll get our own place together if that's what it takes."

I shook my head. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple. Pack a bag. We're leaving now."

The door swung open without a knock. Clyde stood there, his expression thunderous.

"Elsie needs you," he snapped. "She can't decide between the blue maternity dress and the green one."

Michaela stepped forward, placing herself between us. "Are you serious right now? Your wife isn't a personal shopper."

Clyde's gaze flicked to her dismissively before returning to me. "Five minutes, Leia. She's waiting in the living room."

"I'll be right there," I said softly.

When he left, Michaela grabbed my hands. "Did you hear yourself? You sound like a beaten dog. This isn't you, Leia!"

Tears filled my eyes. "I don't know who I am anymore."

"You're Leia Warren, my best friend. The strongest woman I know. And you're letting that man destroy you."

I pulled away, wiping my eyes. "I need to go help Elsie."

"No, you need to leave him," Michaela insisted, but I was already moving toward the door.

Downstairs, Elsie was twirling in front of the mirror in a blue maternity dress, Clyde watching her adoringly.

"There you are," he said when he spotted me. "What took so long? Elsie's been waiting."

"I'm sorry," I murmured automatically.

"The blue or the green?" Elsie asked, holding up another dress.

Before I could answer, Clyde's phone rang. He checked the caller ID and frowned. "I need to take this. It's about the Anderson deal."

As he stepped away to take the call, Elsie's saccharine smile dropped. She leaned in close to me, her voice a venomous whisper.

"I love watching you serve me," she hissed. "It's where you belong—beneath me. Soon Clyde will see he doesn't need you at all."

I stared at her, at my own face twisted with cruelty, and felt something inside me finally break.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen," Clyde announced, raising his glass at the business dinner. "I'd like to introduce the woman who will be giving me a son—the future of Johnston Enterprises."

All eyes turned to Elsie, radiant in the green maternity dress, while I sat forgotten at the far end of the table.

"Elsie has shown me what a real woman can do," Clyde continued, his words slicing through me. "Unlike my wife, who has failed to fulfill her basic duties."

Gasps rippled around the table. Even Richard Johnston looked uncomfortable at the public humiliation.

"Clyde," his mother murmured in warning.

But he was too far gone, drunk on the prospect of his heir. "It's the truth, Mother. Leia has been a disappointment from the beginning. But now, thanks to Elsie, the Johnston name will continue."

I sat frozen, feeling the pitying glances of the other guests. Elsie preened under Clyde's praise, her hand possessively on his arm.

"To my son," Clyde declared, "and to the woman strong enough to bear him!"

Something hot and painful expanded in my chest. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. With trembling hands, I pushed back my chair and stood.

"Leia," Diana Chen, one of the guests, reached for my arm in concern.

I pulled away and walked out of the restaurant, tears blinding me, the sound of Clyde's laughter echoing in my ears.

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