When My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Our Dying Baby

I frantically pounded on the car door, calling out for help, but the driver paid no attention and drove off without a second glance. The air inside was stifling; my throat was parched, and my belly tightened with painful cramps. My usually active baby was eerily quiet, and panic washed over me. The doctor had warned me this might happen, and now it seemed like his words were coming true. I quickly dialed Kaden Mason's number.

To my surprise, the call was picked up in less than three seconds, but it wasn’t Kaden’s voice I heard; it was Aniyah Perry.

"Kaden’s making soup for me," she said, her voice annoyingly calm. "He thinks I need to warm up after being in the ocean and that my stomach needs soothing."

"If you have something to say, just tell me directly!"

Aniyah's serene tone didn't match someone recovering from a stomach illness, and it strengthened my suspicion that she was faking it all.

She chuckled softly, dropping the act. "As long as Kaden believes me, that's all that matters. If there's nothing urgent, you should relax and enjoy the garage!"

Her voice dripped with smugness. My mildly swollen abdomen throbbed painfully; I gritted my teeth and demanded she hand over the phone. Just then, I heard footsteps in the background, and Kaden Mason’s gentle yet distant voice came through:

"Aniyah, could you check the clam chowder and see if it needs more salt?"

"Of course, Kaden! I love everything you make!"

Their carefree chatter contrasted sharply with my rising distress. With my breath becoming more labored, Kaden finally spoke, his tone tinged with irritation:

"Estella Silva, you're just sitting in a car for a while. Is this really worth all the fuss?"

I was too dehydrated to argue, my breaths quickened as tears streamed down my face—not from frustration, but sheer fear.

"Kaden, I’m begging you, for the baby’s sake, let the driver release me, won’t you?"

"I'm really not feeling well; the doctor said I shouldn’t be under stress!"

Kaden toyed with his phone, indifferent to my pain, speaking casually:

"The doctor told me you were perfectly healthy just days ago. What's your excuse now? Are you setting up a scene for me?"

"No, it's not..."

I gasped, my voice breaking with helplessness.

"Listen carefully, Estella Silva," he said coldly. "I personally saved Aniyah from the seaside, and I won’t let anyone harm her again."

"I’ve made it clear that as long as you help Aniyah recover, I won’t bother you."

"This situation is entirely of your own making."

Kaden’s voice was icy as he cut me off, hanging up without a second thought.

I had imagined Kaden and Aniyah were close, but not so close that he’d disregard the baby. The phone’s battery was nearly dead, and I had to give up struggling, leaning back in the seat, hoping someone would find me.

Another agonizing hour passed, my body overheated, as if I were in an oven. I recalled hearing on TV that in a sealed car, one could suffocate in three hours. Why was I still conscious?

I laughed bitterly, momentarily letting go of the fight to survive. Then a sharp kick jolted me awake, reminding me I wasn’t alone. I had a child, five months along; I couldn’t give up on him!

I forced myself up, grabbed my phone, which showed just nine percent battery, and dialed another number.

As expected, the call was picked up in ten seconds. Bitterness flooded me as I spoke, my voice barely audible:

"You promised that if I ever regretted my decision, you’d come to take me away."

"Is that promise still good?"

The battery dropped to three percent; my only hope hung on the person answering. If they said no, I was certainly finished.

"It’s still valid, anytime, Estella. I’ll be there for you!"

With my last ounce of strength, I gave the address before slipping into unconsciousness.