His First Love Killed My Unborn - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading His First Love Killed My Unborn, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of His First Love Killed My Unborn.
The moment Paula spotted me, her shock morphed into pure, unbridled terror.
"Ian, stop her!" she shrieked, her voice quivering like a leaf in a storm.
I met her gaze with icy indifference and slowly lifted the lid of the box in my hands.
A collective gasp tore through the crowd as the contents came into view—the frail, blue-gray form of my unborn child, preserved on the screen for all to see.
Paula's scream was primal, raw. She clawed at Ian, collapsing into his arms as she wailed, "She's cursing Lloyd! She's cursing my baby because hers is gone! Get her out of here!"
Ian's face drained of color. He shoved Paula aside, staggering toward me like a man in a nightmare. His hands shook violently as he reached out, fingers hovering over my stomach—where our child should have been.
When his palm pressed against me, the truth hit him like a freight train. His lips trembled as he choked out, "Wife… our baby…"
I snapped the box shut with a thunderous bang, my voice dripping with venom.
"You left me for her, Ian. You killed your own child with your bare hands."
His knees buckled. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, shaking his head like a desperate man clinging to denial. "No… it was an accident—"
A bitter laugh tore from my throat, tears carving hot trails down my cheeks.
"An accident? Then tell everyone why you just happened to meet Paula at that gas station. Go on, Ian—tell them the truth."
His head jerked up, guilt flashing across his face before he could mask it.
I set the box down gently and pulled out my phone.
Paula went ghost-white. She lunged at me, shrieking, "Stop! Don't you dare!"
But I sidestepped her easily.
The next second, Paula's own voice boomed through the banquet hall, crisp and damning from the speakers:
"Sherrie, Ian's been sick of you for ages. We planned that gas station meet-up. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have even come home for New Year's."
A pause. Then, her smug giggle.
"Oh, and when your baby died and you were bleeding out in the hospital? Guess where he was? Running errands for me. And trust me—he still had enough energy to keep me up all night. Heh, does he do that for you?"
The silence was suffocating.
Paula's eyes darted like a cornered animal. With a strangled cry, she bolted for the exit, shoving through the crowd like a woman possessed.
I stood motionless on the stage, watching her flee. But the hollow ache in my chest didn't fade.
The whispers erupted like wildfire.
"Paula's the other woman? And Ian caused his own wife's miscarriage?"
"That bastard. And who's to say Lloyd's even his kid?"
Ian finally snapped out of his daze. His bloodshot eyes locked onto mine, pleading.
I didn't blink. Reaching into my bag, I flung a neatly folded paper at his face.
"We're done, Ian. Sign the divorce papers."
He scrambled up, grabbing my wrist. "No! I won't sign! You can't do this!"
Revulsion twisted my stomach. I wrenched free. "Don't touch me. You make me sick."
His face flushed crimson, then paled again as he snarled, "Haven't you humiliated me enough? It was a mistake—one any man could make! Other wives forgive their husbands! Why do you have to destroy our family?"
The words stole the breath from my lungs.
I destroyed the family?
Something inside me shattered.
I seized him by the collar, shaking him hard enough to rattle his teeth. My voice cracked, raw with grief and fury.
"A mistake? Your mistake murdered our child!"
"Why the hell should I forgive you? Do you think you deserve it, Ian? Do you think you're worth it?"
Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't wipe them away. The crowd had erupted now—shouts, curses, a chorus of condemnation raining down on him.
I didn't look back.
Turning on my heel, I walked away—head high, heart in pieces—leaving the wreckage behind.
"Ian, stop her!" she shrieked, her voice quivering like a leaf in a storm.
I met her gaze with icy indifference and slowly lifted the lid of the box in my hands.
A collective gasp tore through the crowd as the contents came into view—the frail, blue-gray form of my unborn child, preserved on the screen for all to see.
Paula's scream was primal, raw. She clawed at Ian, collapsing into his arms as she wailed, "She's cursing Lloyd! She's cursing my baby because hers is gone! Get her out of here!"
Ian's face drained of color. He shoved Paula aside, staggering toward me like a man in a nightmare. His hands shook violently as he reached out, fingers hovering over my stomach—where our child should have been.
When his palm pressed against me, the truth hit him like a freight train. His lips trembled as he choked out, "Wife… our baby…"
I snapped the box shut with a thunderous bang, my voice dripping with venom.
"You left me for her, Ian. You killed your own child with your bare hands."
His knees buckled. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, shaking his head like a desperate man clinging to denial. "No… it was an accident—"
A bitter laugh tore from my throat, tears carving hot trails down my cheeks.
"An accident? Then tell everyone why you just happened to meet Paula at that gas station. Go on, Ian—tell them the truth."
His head jerked up, guilt flashing across his face before he could mask it.
I set the box down gently and pulled out my phone.
Paula went ghost-white. She lunged at me, shrieking, "Stop! Don't you dare!"
But I sidestepped her easily.
The next second, Paula's own voice boomed through the banquet hall, crisp and damning from the speakers:
"Sherrie, Ian's been sick of you for ages. We planned that gas station meet-up. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have even come home for New Year's."
A pause. Then, her smug giggle.
"Oh, and when your baby died and you were bleeding out in the hospital? Guess where he was? Running errands for me. And trust me—he still had enough energy to keep me up all night. Heh, does he do that for you?"
The silence was suffocating.
Paula's eyes darted like a cornered animal. With a strangled cry, she bolted for the exit, shoving through the crowd like a woman possessed.
I stood motionless on the stage, watching her flee. But the hollow ache in my chest didn't fade.
The whispers erupted like wildfire.
"Paula's the other woman? And Ian caused his own wife's miscarriage?"
"That bastard. And who's to say Lloyd's even his kid?"
Ian finally snapped out of his daze. His bloodshot eyes locked onto mine, pleading.
I didn't blink. Reaching into my bag, I flung a neatly folded paper at his face.
"We're done, Ian. Sign the divorce papers."
He scrambled up, grabbing my wrist. "No! I won't sign! You can't do this!"
Revulsion twisted my stomach. I wrenched free. "Don't touch me. You make me sick."
His face flushed crimson, then paled again as he snarled, "Haven't you humiliated me enough? It was a mistake—one any man could make! Other wives forgive their husbands! Why do you have to destroy our family?"
The words stole the breath from my lungs.
I destroyed the family?
Something inside me shattered.
I seized him by the collar, shaking him hard enough to rattle his teeth. My voice cracked, raw with grief and fury.
"A mistake? Your mistake murdered our child!"
"Why the hell should I forgive you? Do you think you deserve it, Ian? Do you think you're worth it?"
Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't wipe them away. The crowd had erupted now—shouts, curses, a chorus of condemnation raining down on him.
I didn't look back.
Turning on my heel, I walked away—head high, heart in pieces—leaving the wreckage behind.
End of His First Love Killed My Unborn Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to His First Love Killed My Unborn book page.