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The police followed the trail of clues, digging through the chat records between Lizzie and her best friend. What they uncovered shocked everyone–those chat records had been carefully
fabricated.
But that wasn’t all. The investigation revealed that Lizzie and her friend had been conspiring to drug me to ensure I would never give birth to Trent’s child. Lizzie had promised her friend that once she became Mrs. Curran, she would share a portion of Trent’s company shares with her.
The police didn’t stop there. They raided their apartment and found leftover drugs, drugs that weren’t fatal but could cause excruciating abdominal pain and convulsions. The searing stomach pain I had endured during New Year’s Eve? It wasn’t just a fluke. Lizzie had poisoned
he water I drank.
I had been too focused on my pregnancy to consider any other explanation for the pain.
When Trent found out, his world crumbled.
He bought an empty tomb, pouring money into its lavish construction. He didn’t stop there, he hired a master to chant scriptures for the baby. The tombstone bore the words: “Son of Trent
and Heather.”
After the ceremony, he gently ran his fingers over the inscription, his voice soft with emotion. “Baby, Daddy, and Mommy will bring your younger siblings to visit you in the future.”
A wave of disgust churned in my stomach.
The future? Trent, there is no future for us.
As the New Year approached, he set aside his work, staying close by me like an unshakable
shadow as if afraid I might slip away.
He somehow got his hands on a list titled “100 Things a Husband Should Do for His Wife” and followed it to the letter, swearing he could win me back.
He cooked three meals a day for me, but I never touched a bite, ordering delivery instead. He bought VIP concert tickets and placed them beside my pillow, only for me to toss them straigh
into the trash.
He had carefully planned every detail of our trip, and though I agreed to go, I changed mind at the last moment before boarding the plane.
As he stood in the departure lounge, his excitement quickly transformed into despair. Watching his face crumble, I felt no satisfaction in my act of defiance, only a hollow sense
of time wasted.
In the grand scheme of what he had done to me, my small rebellions barely made a dent. There were countless times when he promised he’d be home for dinner, and I waited with a table full of dishes until midnight, only for him to never show. When I texted, he accused me of being too controlling.
There were nights I staved up late securing tickets for a concert by our favorite band.
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1 Froze Myself Pregnant to Escape My Cheating Husband
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slipping them into his bag as a surprise. Later, he claimed to have lost them and blamed me for not reminding him. But it didn’t take long for me to learn he had taken Lizzie to the concert
instead.
There were times he promised to travel abroad with me. I arrived at the airport full of excitement, only for him to tell me he had to work overtime. In truth, he had accompanied Lizzie
to her best friend’s birthday party.
There were countless times he promised to travel abroad with me. I would arrive at the airport, my heart full of excitement, only for him to tell me that work had kept him back. The truth was, he had gone with Lizzie to her best friend’s birthday party.
I could never quite recall how I felt each time I forgave him.
It was as if forgiving once had made it easier to forgive over and over again.
I became conditioned to endure, growing accustomed to his coldness and constant blame.
Even his fleeting moments of kindness, so rare they felt like gifts, I convinced myself were
signs of his love.
Perhaps that was human nature: when you were deep in the mud, you clung to a piece of driftwood, hoping it would be your salvation.
After weeks of pushing himself too hard, hardly eating or sleeping, Trent finally broke.
Carrying a bowl of hot chicken curry to the table, his legs buckled, and he collapsed, the steaming chicken curry spilling onto his hands, instantly scalding them.
I squatted slowly beside him, my cold hand gently touching his burning forehead.
“You have a fever,” I said quietly.
He struggled to lift his eyes, searching for the rare warmth in my voice. Hoarse and weak,
and murmured something to me.
He struggled to lift his eyes, searching for the rare warmth in my voice. Hoarse and weak,
and murmured something to me.
I Froze Myself Pregnant to Escape My Cheating Husband
“Heather, I feel so awful…”
