Loading promotion info...
My Daughter's Life and Mine Were His 10,000-Dollar Bet
Novelix
Completed
Five years into our relationship, I learned that half my life was worth only a ten-thousand-dollar bet. In the delivery room, I was enduring the excruciating pain of dilation. Derek, who was supposed to be accompanying me, was called away by a phone call. In my haze, I heard his friends laughing in the hallway. "I told you—as long as Chloe's dog was about to give birth, Derek would absolutely ditch his wife in the delivery room!" "I won the bet! Ten thousand—transfer it now!"
Chapters (4)
第1章
Five years into our relationship, I learned that half my life was worth only a ten-thousand-dollar bet.
In the delivery room, I was enduring the excruciating pain of dilation.
Derek, who was supposed to be accompanying me, was called away by a phone call.
In my haze, I heard his friends laughing in the hallway.
"I told you—as long as Chloe's dog was about to give birth, Derek would absolutely ditch his wife in the delivery room!"
"I won the bet! Ten thousand—transfer it now!"
I deflated instantly. The baby got stuck in the birth canal.
The midwife's face changed; she urgently called Derek.
It rang three times before he picked up.
He was silent for a moment, then spoke in his usual cool voice:
"I'm a top surgeon. I know the obstetrics protocol perfectly well."
"The hospital has top-tier specialists. My presence there provides nothing but emotional support—no medical intervention value."
"But Chloe's golden retriever has a malpositioned fetus. If not handled properly, both mother and pups could die within minutes."
"I know which is more important."
"Childbirth is a normal physiological process. Once her vitals stabilize, I'll come back."
At that life-or-death moment, his logic ranked me below another woman's pet dog giving birth.
I didn't cry, didn't scream, didn't throw a tantrum.
I just struggled to raise my hand and hung up the phone.
No need to give birth anymore.
No need to be Mrs. Foster, either.
Three days after the surgery, the hospital room door finally opened.
Derek walked casually to the foot of the bed and naturally picked up the chart hanging there.
When he saw the line for induced labor, his fingers paused slightly as he turned the page.
A flicker of shock passed through his eyes—fast, but there.
Yet it lasted only a second before vanishing without a trace.
He put down the chart and sat by the bed.
"Lina, feeling better? Does the wound still hurt?"
I stared at his cold, composed face, my whole body trembling uncontrollably.
My voice was hoarse, nearly torn:
"Derek, the baby is gone."
"When I signed the surgery consent form, I hemorrhaged—I nearly died."
Derek frowned slightly, pulled out a tissue, and gently wiped the dampness from the corner of my eye. His tone was steady:
"I know. I just read the chart."
He took my cold hand.
"Lina, don't be too upset."
"From a eugenics perspective, fetal developmental arrest is a natural selection outcome."
"It means the embryo itself wasn't healthy."
"You're still young. Terminating the pregnancy early minimizes the damage to your body."
I jerked my head up, staring at him in disbelief.
Three days ago in the delivery room, the baby was stuck in the canal, malpositioned, and I was hemorrhaging.
Even though I'd signed the induced labor consent myself, I was devastated.
But now, as the father, Derek showed not a flicker of emotion upon learning the child was gone.
"Derek, do you even have a heart?"
I yanked my hand back, tears falling onto the blanket.
"When I was in agony in that delivery room—what were you doing?"
Derek lowered his eyes, looking at his still-warm palm, and actually explained—rare for him:
"Chloe's golden retriever had a difficult birth—malposition, heavy bleeding."
"I don't know veterinary medicine, but I had to be there to help her stay calm."
"Help her stay calm?" I laughed bitterly, pointing at my stomach.
"She stays calm—what about me?"
"Your fiancée is being induced, your child is bleeding, and you went to calm someone else's dog?"
"Last night, when your friends bet ten thousand on my life—did it ever occur to you that I might die too?"
Derek's face darkened. He swept a cold glance at the friends in the room.
Then he looked back at me and sighed:
"Lina, can you be rational?"
His voice rose half an octave.
"Staying here would do nothing but sit with you in silence."
"Losing this child—it's just normal physiological selection."
"Once you recover, we can have another anytime. It's fine."
"But if that dog dies, Chloe won't be able to go on. Don't you understand?"
第2章
I looked at this man, at how naturally he took another woman's side.
Memories from sophomore year flooded back uncontrollably.
Back then, Chloe had been my inseparable best friend.
She always wore innocent makeup and clung to me with a soft, fragile air.
She'd even come to me with red-rimmed eyes, trying to catch Derek's attention.
Back then, Derek's gaze at Chloe was nothing but undisguised disgust.
Once, Chloe pretended to sprain her ankle, hoping Derek would give her a ride back to the dorm.
Derek coldly pulled me behind him:
"Drop the act. Take a cab."
Afterward, he warned me:
"Lina, stay away from Chloe."
"She's two-faced—fake as hell."
"Don't be naive enough to treat her like a sister. She'll use you one day."
I had no guard up back then; I always thought Chloe was just timid.
I kept defending her, saying Derek was too prejudiced.
But now?
"Derek..." My eyes red, I bit my pale lower lip.
"Do you remember what you said back in sophomore year?"
Derek paused, as if surprised I was bringing up the past.
But he quickly composed himself, a flicker of impatience in his eyes:
"Lina, that was years ago."
"Back then I didn't know her—I was biased."
"After more contact, I realized she's actually very fragile."
"Besides, you're her best friend. You know she has a history of severe depression."
"Why are you still holding a grudge at a time like this? Where's that generosity you used to have?"
I stared at him in disbelief.
"Fine. I won't hold it. Just go."
I turned my head away, closed my eyes, and tears soaked into my pillow.
I didn't have a single extra word to say to him.
Derek thought I'd given in.
He stood up, walked to the door, and gave some instructions to the medical staff outside.
Soon, a top-tier private nurse in a crisp uniform walked in.
Derek came back to the bedside, his voice unbearably tender:
"Lina, I've moved you to the most luxurious VIP ward in the hospital."
"I've also hired the most expensive private nurse in town—round-the-clock care."
"The nurse and the meals here are the best. You don't have to worry about anything."
After saying that, he glanced at his watch.
He naturally picked up his suit jacket from the chair.
"Chloe's golden retriever didn't make it last night—died from the difficult birth."
"She's locked herself in her room, not eating or drinking. She needs emergency psychological intervention."
Derek looked at me, gently tucking a stray lock of hair from my forehead.
"I'll go check on her first. I'll come back later to handle your discharge."
"And I'll bring you that seafood porridge you like from your favorite place."
"Be good. Get some rest."
I watched him turn and push open the hospital room door.
The last sliver of light from the crack was cut off entirely.
I stared at that closed door, and the last glimmer in my eyes died with it.
Last night, Derek never came.
This morning, I handled all the discharge paperwork alone and returned to our apartment.
I sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling as I opened the drawer.
I took out the pair of wool booties I'd knitted myself, and that black-and-white ultrasound photo.
I placed them carefully into a box.
These were the only traces that child had ever existed in this world.
Just as I closed the lid, the apartment door opened.
Derek walked in—and Chloe was right behind him.
Seeing me sitting on the bed, Derek showed no guilt at all:
"Lina, I didn't pick you up from the hospital yesterday because Chloe's emotional state was extremely unstable."
"She felt terrible about leaving you alone at the hospital that day, so she insisted on coming to see you today."
He paused, then added matter-of-factly:
"Besides, she's suffering from severe psychological trauma. Coming to our place and seeing a new environment might help distract her from her grief."
Listening to this, a wave of nausea rose from my stomach.
"So?"
"To distract her from her grief, you bring her in front of me—the woman who just lost her child?"
"Derek, don't you see how absurd your logic is?"
"Sister, don't blame Derek..."
Chloe timidly stepped out from behind him, her eyes red as she looked at me.
"It's all my fault. I just wanted to come apologize."
"Sister, have some hot tea—it'll warm you up."
She walked toward me carrying a steaming cup of tea.
Just as she reached the nightstand, she suddenly tripped and let out a gasp.
The teacup in her hand flew toward the box I'd just arranged.
Scalding hot tea splashed everywhere—the unlatched box tipped over, the booties fell out and soaked in the puddle, ruined.
"Oh no! I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to!"
第3章
Chloe shrieked, covering her mouth and stumbling backward.
My heart cramped violently in that instant.
"My booties..."
I trembled all over, dragging my weak body off the bed.
Just as I reached for them in the puddle, a hand with well-defined knuckles got there first.
Derek frowned, picked up the soaked wool booties, and—without even looking—tossed them into the nearest trash bin.
"Derek! What are you doing?!"
I lunged for the trash can like a madwoman.
"How dare you throw my things away! Those were the baby's!"
Derek grabbed my wrist and forcibly pulled me back.
Instead of being angry, he walked over and gently stroked my disheveled hair with a pitying look.
"Lina, calm down."
"You're in your postpartum period right now—your emotions are extremely volatile."
"Chloe accidentally soiled them. It's actually a good way to help you let go of this attachment."
"Be sensible—throwing them away is for your own mental health."
"I can't watch you drown in meaningless sentimentality."
I gasped for breath, staring at his perfect, flawless face.
Tears poured down uncontrollably.
"Derek, I'm a mother! That was my child!"
"Lina, the embryo has already been terminated. It's just a soiled piece of yarn now."
Derek's patience remained impeccable.
"Don't be irrational."
I didn't argue one more word with him.
Right in front of him, I picked up my phone.
Yesterday at the hospital, I'd already agreed to that overseas closed-door project.
Now I opened the follow-up email the project team had just sent.
I looked at the final confidentiality agreement and signed my name without hesitation.
My e-ticket confirmation popped up on the screen.
The flight was in two days.
Derek glanced at my screen without reading the details—just assumed I was scrolling on my phone out of spite.
He patted my shoulder approvingly:
"Good, you're calming down on your own."
"I'll go get some dry towels for Chloe—her dress got splashed."
I sat on the bed, watching him walk toward Chloe, and my heart turned to ash.
On the fourth day after the surgery—the day before I was to leave—Derek went to the hospital. I was alone in the bedroom, packing all my important documents into my backpack.
The front door opened. Chloe, acting like the lady of the house, walked into my bedroom carrying a bowl of freshly made soup.
"Sister, you're packing?"
Chloe glanced at the backpack on my bed, a flicker of smugness in her eyes, then put on a sweet smile:
"Derek specifically asked me to make sure you drank this soup before he left for the hospital."
Without looking up, I said coldly: "Leave it there. You can leave now."
"Sister, are you still mad at me?"
Chloe didn't leave. Instead, she walked straight toward me with that scalding bowl of soup.
"I know you're upset that I've taken up Derek's attention."
"But this soup is Derek's gesture of care. Drink it while it's hot."
She tried to shove the bowl into my hands.
"I said get it away!"
I grimaced in disgust and pushed her wrist away.
The instant my fingers touched her sleeve—
Chloe let out an exaggerated scream.
The next second, she flipped her wrist and let go.
The entire bowl of boiling-hot soup spilled all over my already weakened legs.
I cried out in pain instinctively, my legs gave way, and I stumbled forward.
To keep from falling, I reached out blindly and grabbed Chloe's arm.
Chloe fell with me onto the wooden floor.
"What happened?!"
The door burst open. Derek, who'd come back for documents, rushed in like a madman.
I was drenched in cold sweat from the pain, both hands clutching my scalded, reddened thighs—unable to utter a single complete sentence.
"Derek... my legs..."
But Derek didn't even look down at me.
He stepped right over me as I writhed on the floor in agony.
He scooped Chloe up in his arms and frantically checked her over.
"Chloe! Did you get burned? Are you hurt? Did you break anything?!"
His voice was laced with unprecedented panic.
"Derek... I was just bringing Sister some soup out of kindness. She didn't want it, so she pushed me..."
Chloe sobbed beautifully in his arms, conveniently raising her elbow.
"I'm fine—just a little scraped skin on my elbow..."
After confirming that Chloe had only a tiny scrape, Derek let out a huge sigh of relief.
Then he turned to me—soaked in cold sweat from the pain—and his eyes were filled with deep disappointment and chill.
第4章
"Lina, I always thought you were a rational person."
Derek's voice was calm.
"I can understand you being emotional because of the miscarriage."
"Derek, look carefully—I'm the one who got burned!"
I was red-eyed, pointing at the horrific red patches on my legs, my voice shaking as I confronted him.
"She let go of that bowl on purpose!"
Derek let out a cold laugh, his logic flawlessly airtight:
"A bowl of seventy-degree soup—if she'd let go on purpose, why is there not a drop on her, but all on you?"
"Lina, physics dictates trajectory. Do you really think you can cover up your violence with such a cheap lie?"
"I told you—she threw it!"
I gritted my teeth, hatred nearly spilling from my eyes.
"Enough!"
Derek cut me off impatiently.
"Even if it was an accident that the soup spilled—why did you push her?"
"The soup spilled, but you knocked her down—that's a fact!"
"Chloe has a scar-prone constitution. What if that scraped elbow leaves a permanent mark?"
"She brought you soup out of goodwill. Even if you didn't appreciate it, you had no right to push her!"
"Lina, you've been too extreme these past few days. You need to cool off completely."
Looking at his face, so utterly convinced of his own righteousness, I suddenly couldn't help but laugh.
This was the man I'd loved for five years.
As a top surgeon, he couldn't even see how severe my second-degree burns were—
yet he worried about a scraped elbow.
I didn't bother explaining how the soup had really spilled.
I looked up and met his cold eyes.
"Fine, Derek. I'll cool off completely."
On the fifth day after surgery—the morning I was headed to the airport—I packed all my clothes, documents, and essentials into a suitcase.
When Derek saw me dragging the suitcase out, he frowned slightly.
But he didn't stop me.
Instead, he let out a mocking scoff:
"Playing the runaway game again?"
"Lina, how old are you? Still using such childish tactics?"
I ignored him and walked to the cabinet where my postpartum supplements were kept, wanting to take the last few items.
Just as my hand was about to reach the hardest-to-find imported iron-boosting oral solution—
Derek unceremoniously snatched it from me and handed it to Chloe on the sofa.
"Derek, that's Sister's recovery supplement—I can't take it..."
Chloe put up a token refusal.
"Take it."
Derek shoved it into her hand, then turned to me with his final, utterly justified act of favoritism:
"Lina, I've seen your blood test results from the past few days."
"Your hemoglobin has returned to normal threshold, and all your vitals are steadily improving."
"But Chloe has been grieving over her dog, hasn't eaten well for days, and was diagnosed with severe anemia yesterday."
"Medicine is about allocation based on need. Right now, she needs blood-building supplements more than you do."
"You've always had a strong constitution. Skipping one box won't affect you."
"Since you're already dragging a suitcase out to get some air, don't be so petty about it."
I stood there, looking at this man who, because someone else lost a dog,
took away the life-saving supplements from his fiancée who'd just had an induced labor.
The last lingering bitterness in my chest vanished completely in that moment.
This was the man I'd wasted five years of youth and half my life loving.
"You know so many medical indicators—but you don't know how to be a decent human being."
"You're right. Give it to her. After all... I won't need it anymore."
Derek glanced at me, perhaps a little unsettled by my unusual calm.
But he didn't dwell on it.
He grabbed his car keys and helped Chloe up:
"I'm taking Chloe to the hospital for a follow-up on her anemia. You take a couple of days to calm down."
The door closed.
I walked to the coffee table and pulled the engagement ring I'd worn for three years out of my pocket, setting it right in the center.
Underneath the ring, I left a note and the medical record from the miscarriage hemorrhage.
【Dr. Foster, you were right—survival of the fittest. The dead embryo was. And so are you.】
With that, I dragged my suitcase out the door and got into the car waiting downstairs.
I disappeared completely from this city—and from this man's world.
