Betrayed for a Dying Lover

Tears fell as I silently listened to my husband, Steven Reed.

It felt like someone was mercilessly tearing my heart apart, piece by piece.

I had never imagined that the man I shared my bed with could be so cruel. He was ruthless enough to take the life of our child with his own hands.

"Steven, aren't you going too far? There's only a month left for Lily, but you and Julia still have a long life ahead of you.

"Was it worth it to personally get rid of your own child just to make Lily happy?"

I heard one of Steven's colleagues ask.

Steven was silent for a moment before firmly replying, "So what? Lily and I have missed out on so many years together. Now she has brain cancer and only one month left to live. As long as it makes her happy, anything is worth it.

"As for Julia, I'll make it up to her for the rest of my life."

I couldn't hold back my sobs any longer. My suppressed cries echoed through the hospital room.

Steven quickly walked over to my bed. He held my hand tightly.

I touched my now-flat stomach, my voice trembling. “W-Where is my baby?"

Steven's eyes filled with tears as he pulled me into his embrace with a pained expression.

"Julia, I'm sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn't have let you take the stairs alone. Our baby is gone, but we can have another one in the future. Your health is the most important thing right now. Don't be too upset."

He gently stroked my back, as if comforting a child who had been wronged.

"The doctor said you can still conceive again. We will have another child, Julia, please stop crying, okay?"

The tears I had been holding back completely burst forth.

How could he? How could he act so calm after taking our baby's life?

His tears that dripped onto my hand didn’t feel real. I couldn’t believe he was pretending to be the victim.

He said it so nonchalantly that we could have another baby, but I was the one who had to bear the pain. What about our child, the one who had just been cruelly taken from me? What did that life mean to him?

Seeing that I was too heartbroken to speak, Steven handed me a cup of water.

I took a small sip, letting the bitterness spread through my mouth. My lowered gaze hid the storm of emotions surging within me. In the end, I remained silent.

Steven held my hand tightly and reassured me, "It's going to be okay, Julia. I'm here with you. Your leg will heal, and we will have another child."

At that moment, I suddenly wanted to question him. I wanted to ask how he could be so heartless. How could he say he loved me while personally taking our child’s life?

But just as I was about to speak, his phone rang.

"Lily?" He answered, his voice full of concern. "What's wrong? What happened?"

A weak, tearful voice came from the other end of the line. "Steven, I'm scared. I dreamed that I died. I don't want to die."

Steven's face instantly turned pale. He gripped his phone tightly, his voice urgent. "Lily, don't be afraid. I'll come over right away. I'm still at the hospital. I’ll be there soon."

As he spoke, he was already getting up to leave. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed his sleeve, moving my bandaged leg slightly. Bright red blood instantly seeped through the white gauze.

"Steven, my leg–" I choked on my words, hoping he would stay.

Steven glanced down at my leg, his brows furrowing as hesitation flashed across his eyes.

But in the end, he gently pried my fingers off his sleeve and spoke with firm indifference. "Julia, Lily is in a terrible state right now. I have to go see her. You have doctors and nurses here. You’ll be fine.

"She only has one month left. Can't you show her some pity?"

After he left, my tears fell uncontrollably.

He asked me to have pity on her. But who was there to pity me?