My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER - Chapter 11: Chapter 11
You are reading My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER, Chapter 11: Chapter 11. Read more chapters of My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER.
Mark wasn't about to take no for an answer. Day after day, he showed up at the pet store like clockwork.
First, he bought a cat. Then, he started bringing fresh bouquets every morning, leaving them at the front desk like some kind of romantic gesture. But of course, he'd use it as an excuse to linger—asking me endless questions about toys and cat food, playing dumb just to keep the conversation going.
The store was practically drowning in flowers. I was so fed up that I finally caved and took a short vacation, just to get away from the whole ridiculous situation.
But according to my boss, Mark didn't skip a beat. He switched tactics—showering the staff with milk tea and cakes, buying cat food by the case, basically turning the place into his personal pity party. My boss even joked, "He hit my annual sales quota in three days."
Enough was enough. I yanked Mark off my blacklist and sent him a blunt message:
"Keep harassing me, and I'm calling the cops."
Did he really think a few bouquets and overpriced cat supplies would win me back? Please. I'm not some naive girl who falls for cheap grand gestures and half-hearted apologies.
But Mark? Oh, he wasn't done. Somehow, he tracked down my brother's place and ambushed me at the community entrance.
There he was, in the middle of a busy intersection, dropping to one knee with a massive bouquet of roses and a loudspeaker, shouting:
"Miss Rachel, I was wrong! Please forgive me—come home with me!"
My brother nearly lost it, rolling up his sleeves like he was ready to throw down, but my sister-in-law held him back. Meanwhile, my little nephew—bless his tiny, furious heart—darted forward before anyone could stop him, jabbing a finger at Mark's face.
"You heartless jerk! You cheated on my aunt, left her in the hospital to die, then kicked her out of the company for your mistress! You're the worst!"
The crowd erupted. Mark's face went dark.
I scooped up my nephew before things escalated, but then—of course—Olivia waddled out of the crowd, one hand cradling her belly, the other clutching her back.
"Mark!" she cried, voice trembling. "Are you abandoning me and our baby?"
Mark spun around, panic flashing across his face.
Olivia shot me a venomous glare before dropping her eyes, tugging at his sleeve like some tragic heroine. "Come home. The company needs you. We need you."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Mark, since you've got a kid on the way, maybe focus on not being a walking disaster. I don't make a habit of recycling trash."
With that, I turned, my nephew in my arms, and walked away. My brother and sister-in-law fell into step beside me, and we vanished into the crowd.
Mark went back with Olivia—no surprise there.
Later, I heard through the grapevine that they actually got married. But on the day the baby was born? Massive fight. Mark ditched her at the hospital and ghosted.
My coworker cackled while relaying the gossip: "You should've seen it—that baby came out with dark skin. Clearly not his. Who knows where Olivia was shopping for donors?"
I couldn't care less.
These days, I've got bigger things to focus on. My boss decided I was wasted at one store and handed me the keys to a new branch, making me manager. The workload is insane, but the paychecks? Let's just say I wake up smiling.
My life's finally moving forward. Why waste another second on people who belong in the past?
Their mess? Their problem. Not mine.
First, he bought a cat. Then, he started bringing fresh bouquets every morning, leaving them at the front desk like some kind of romantic gesture. But of course, he'd use it as an excuse to linger—asking me endless questions about toys and cat food, playing dumb just to keep the conversation going.
The store was practically drowning in flowers. I was so fed up that I finally caved and took a short vacation, just to get away from the whole ridiculous situation.
But according to my boss, Mark didn't skip a beat. He switched tactics—showering the staff with milk tea and cakes, buying cat food by the case, basically turning the place into his personal pity party. My boss even joked, "He hit my annual sales quota in three days."
Enough was enough. I yanked Mark off my blacklist and sent him a blunt message:
"Keep harassing me, and I'm calling the cops."
Did he really think a few bouquets and overpriced cat supplies would win me back? Please. I'm not some naive girl who falls for cheap grand gestures and half-hearted apologies.
But Mark? Oh, he wasn't done. Somehow, he tracked down my brother's place and ambushed me at the community entrance.
There he was, in the middle of a busy intersection, dropping to one knee with a massive bouquet of roses and a loudspeaker, shouting:
"Miss Rachel, I was wrong! Please forgive me—come home with me!"
My brother nearly lost it, rolling up his sleeves like he was ready to throw down, but my sister-in-law held him back. Meanwhile, my little nephew—bless his tiny, furious heart—darted forward before anyone could stop him, jabbing a finger at Mark's face.
"You heartless jerk! You cheated on my aunt, left her in the hospital to die, then kicked her out of the company for your mistress! You're the worst!"
The crowd erupted. Mark's face went dark.
I scooped up my nephew before things escalated, but then—of course—Olivia waddled out of the crowd, one hand cradling her belly, the other clutching her back.
"Mark!" she cried, voice trembling. "Are you abandoning me and our baby?"
Mark spun around, panic flashing across his face.
Olivia shot me a venomous glare before dropping her eyes, tugging at his sleeve like some tragic heroine. "Come home. The company needs you. We need you."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Mark, since you've got a kid on the way, maybe focus on not being a walking disaster. I don't make a habit of recycling trash."
With that, I turned, my nephew in my arms, and walked away. My brother and sister-in-law fell into step beside me, and we vanished into the crowd.
Mark went back with Olivia—no surprise there.
Later, I heard through the grapevine that they actually got married. But on the day the baby was born? Massive fight. Mark ditched her at the hospital and ghosted.
My coworker cackled while relaying the gossip: "You should've seen it—that baby came out with dark skin. Clearly not his. Who knows where Olivia was shopping for donors?"
I couldn't care less.
These days, I've got bigger things to focus on. My boss decided I was wasted at one store and handed me the keys to a new branch, making me manager. The workload is insane, but the paychecks? Let's just say I wake up smiling.
My life's finally moving forward. Why waste another second on people who belong in the past?
Their mess? Their problem. Not mine.
End of My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER Chapter 11. View all chapters or return to My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER book page.