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The Day I Miscarried, He Made Me Apologize to His First Love
To force me to apologize to his first love, my husband froze every bank account in my name. In the family hospital corridor, I knelt in front of a video call, my seven-month pregnant belly propped up, begging him to save my baby—the one that was slipping away. Before long, a recording of me kneeling and crying was posted on Serena's social media account: "Look, everyone—this is a classic 'poor me' woman. Using her own unborn child as leverage to guilt-trip a man." "In this situation, you must ignore every sound she makes. Do not fuel her arrogance."
Chapters (2)
第1章
To force me to apologize to his first love, my husband froze every bank account in my name.
In the family hospital corridor, I knelt in front of a video call, my seven-month pregnant belly propped up, begging him to save my baby—the one that was slipping away.
Before long, a recording of me kneeling and crying was posted on Serena's social media account:
"Look, everyone—this is a classic 'poor me' woman. Using her own unborn child as leverage to guilt-trip a man."
"In this situation, you must ignore every sound she makes. Do not fuel her arrogance."
That post shot to the top of the trending charts.
Serena's "Toxic Relationship Detection Course" sold a hundred thousand copies in an instant, netting her five million on the spot.
Alessandro sent me a message:
[Since you made Serena money this time, I'll let you off the hook for the apology.]
I lay on the cold stretcher, hearing the news that the baby couldn't be saved, and closed my eyes with a bitter smile.
At the same time, my phone pinged with an e-ticket for a flight to North America three days later:
[Three days. I'll go with you to North America for the delivery. Stop making a scene.]
Serena smiled lightly in her livestream:
"After all, this is her specialty—a woman's tactics to control a man are still pretty easy to spot."
"Today's case is a bit extreme. Usually, even a woman who wants to control a man knows that even a tiger won't eat its own cub. But this one used her own baby as a tool—you could say she's past the point of no return."
In no time, the hashtag "Serena Exposes Emotional Manipulators" blew up on the trending list.
TV news did a live cross with Serena, and their ratings hit the highest of the night.
I turned off my phone, quietly wrapped my little one's cremains box in soft velvet cloth, and placed it in a small grave I'd just dug by the river, along with a few tiny clothes I'd knitted that he never got to wear:
"Baby, it's cold on the road. Put these on before you go."
I knelt in front of the little headstone and finally broke down, covering my face as I sobbed.
After paying my respects, dawn was almost breaking.
My phone rang urgently—it was Serena:
"Sister, why didn't you answer when Alessandro called you? You're only a month or two from your due date—this isn't the time to throw a tantrum, is it?"
I pushed open the front door, and there was Serena, phone in hand. When she saw me, she tugged at Alessandro with a bright, startled smile:
"Alessandro! Sister's back!"
"I told you I'd go with you to North America for the delivery. Is this your new scam—running away because you couldn't squeeze money out of me?"
Alessandro strode toward me, eyes bloodshot, voice frantic:
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a pregnant woman to wander off in the middle of the night?"
Serena glanced at his anxious expression, and the smile at the corner of her mouth cooled involuntarily. Then she turned to me and sweetened her voice:
"Yeah, Sister, even if you're upset with Alessandro, you shouldn't drag the baby into your tantrum~”
Alessandro gave me a shove:
"Go. Pack your things. I'm taking you to a hotel near the airport tonight."
I was wearing a loose maternity dress that hid my figure completely. He hadn't noticed my belly was flat.
"No need." I pressed my hand to my lower abdomen, and the maternity dress sank inward:
"There's no point anymore."
Alessandro turned back, and his breath caught.
Serena covered her mouth:
"Sister! Just because Alessandro didn't fall for your trick, you went and aborted the baby out of spite?"
Her eyes reddened as she looked at Alessandro:
"Alessandro! How could she do that!"
第2章
Alessandro's eyes rimmed red as he grabbed my wrist:
"Are you insane?! Because I wouldn't give you three thousand, you killed our child?!"
"It wasn't my choice." My eyes were red. "I told you—it was an emergency."
"Alessandro! See? She's lying to you again!"
Serena stepped forward, clutching all my prenatal checkup reports from the entire pregnancy:
"Every single checkup was clear. There's no way something suddenly went wrong last night!"
"You know exactly why it went wrong."
Serena froze.
I glared at her: "What did you put in that soup you gave me last night? Do you think I don't know?"
"Enough!"
I was shoved hard, the small of my back slamming into the corner of the table.
Alessandro gritted his teeth at me: "Stop blaming everything on Serena. Haven't you framed her enough times already?"
Serena bit her lower lip, looking pitifully at me.
I pressed a hand to my aching back and suddenly found it laughable.
It was always like this. When Serena pushed me down the stairs, I was lying. When Serena "lost" the proposal herself, it was my trap. When Serena spiked my soup, I was slandering her.
Looking at this man I'd loved for seven years, I suddenly felt so tired.
"Don't worry. I'll never blame her again."
I opened the drawer and handed him the divorce papers:
"I'll only wish you both well."
Alessandro stiffened, his voice trembling as he looked at me:
"Valentina..."
"Heh."
A cold laugh. Serena's lips curled in disdain:
"Alessandro, what did I tell you? Sister's final move, after all her schemes fail, is always the divorce papers."
Alessandro's hand, reaching toward me, froze.
Serena looked at me:
"Sister, Alessandro is blinded by worry, so you can fool him. But I'm a woman too—I see right through you. You've got real skills. First, you kneel with that baby bump and play the victim. Then you abort the child and claim it 'couldn't be saved,' so Alessandro owes you a huge emotional debt. And finally, you have the divorce papers ready as a safety net."
"Honestly, Sister, that combo move—not many men can withstand it. Even if Alessandro actually divorces you, you'll still milk a fortune out of his guilt."
Alessandro's anxiety faded bit by bit, and his gaze at me grew colder by the second.
His voice turned sardonic:
"Fine. Divorce. But you won't get a single cent."
He snatched the papers and flipped to the asset division section—and froze.
There, I had waived all property rights, taking nothing.
Alessandro looked at me, surprised.
Even Serena frowned involuntarily:
"Alessandro, sign it."
Alessandro's brow tightened.
"Sister is counting on you to soften. If she voluntarily gives up everything, you'll end up giving her a huge sum out of guilt. Then she'll have her reputation and her money."
Serena shot me a cold look: "But someone who would use a child as leverage doesn't deserve either."
Alessandro gripped the pen tighter.
"Alessandro, only by signing will she realize this trick won't work. Then she'll never use it to hurt anyone again."
Alessandro laughed, a bitter edge to it.
"Valentina, I'm so disappointed in you."
He signed both copies quickly: "Since you offered to forfeit everything, so be it."
He tossed my copy back at me, as if searching my eyes for some reaction. When I just tucked it away without any particular response, his frown deepened with irritation.
He took Serena's hand and walked off without looking back.
That night, Serena's account blew up again.
"Look, everyone—this is a case of a woman trying to use divorce to trigger a man's guilt, but I saw through her."
On her page, our divorce agreement was blown up to full size.