Don't Call Me Back, Ex-husband!

Bethany pov

After dropping my son, Jason, off at preschool, I headed to the hospital to get my results. I hoped this test would change everything.

Since having Jason, my husband, Fred, had drifted away. Now he was talking about divorce. He said he’d only stayed this long for Jason's sake. Maybe, just maybe, if I got pregnant again, he’d stay.

The test paper crinkled in my hand as I unfolded it, my pulse hammering. My last hope to hold onto him—NEGATIVE.

I felt a wave of cold settle over me. It was my last chance, and it was gone.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed Fred entering. He grabbed the paper from my hands, holding it just out of reach.

“Looking for this?” he asked, voice cold and distant.

“No—I'm not," I stammered, trying to grab it back, but he raised it higher. With a sneer, he tore it in half, letting the pieces flutter to the floor like ash.

“You went for another test? I warned you, Bethany. It’s over. Stop trying to trap me.”

"Why?" I whispered, voice trembling. "Who is she, Fred? What does she have that I don’t?”

He scoffed. "Let’s just say she knows how to make me feel alive. Unlike you."

His words hit like a slap. So it was true. He had someone else.

“Fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re a scumbag, Fred. A complete piece of trash.”

He stopped, turned, his expression hardening. "What did you just say?"

“I’ve given you everything, and this is what I get? I should have seen this coming."

His face twisted with anger. “Don’t play the victim. If you really cared, you'd be fighting to make this better, not whining about it. I’ve done my best to make this marriage work, but you—you’re just holding me back.”

I grabbed his arm, tears streaming down my face. "Fred, please. Don’t do this. Don’t give up on us."

He pulled away, cold and unfeeling. "I don’t need your stories. I need a new life. With someone who isn’t… you."

The final blow landed when he added, "Her name is Chantel.”

My hand shot up, and I slapped him hard across the face. He stood there, stunned, then turned and walked out.

---

Four hours later, I was still curled up on the living room floor, exhausted from crying. My mind raced with desperate ideas, but nothing made sense. Life without him… it was unthinkable.

The phone rang, jolting me upright. I grabbed it, hearing Jason’s teacher on the line, her voice anxious.

"Mrs. Hart? There’s been an accident—Jason’s been hit by a car, and your husband took him to the hospital. I thought you should know."

"What?” My heart dropped. “Where did he take him?"

“I think it’s Gixe Hospital, the one near the school. Please, hurry.”

I barely registered hanging up. I grabbed my keys and ran out the door, dread churning in my stomach. I was supposed to pick him from school myself.

***Gixe Hospital

I burst into the hospital, scanning the waiting room for any sign of Fred or Jason. Finally, I spotted him… with HER.

Chantel stood beside him, looking as if she were here for a dinner date, not a hospital visit.

I marched up to them, my fists clenched. "Where is my son, Fred? What happened?"

He glanced over, barely meeting my gaze. "He’s fine."

"Excuse me? Are you a doctor now?” I snapped, fury bubbling up.

“You had no right to take him without telling me. Were you planning to disappear with him, too? Running off with your mistress and my son?"

Fred’s jaw tightened, but I pressed a finger into his chest. "Listen to me, Fred—if anything happens to Jason...anything.. I will make you pay."

He said nothing, only glanced away. Hours passed as we waited, each second more agonizing than the last. I felt raw, on edge, my mind spiraling with worry.

At last, a doctor approached, holding a cooler marked for organ donation. My heart stopped, and I staggered backward, clutching at the wall to keep from collapsing.

“No, no, no…” I whispered, desperation choking me. I lunged forward, grabbing the doctor’s coat. “Please, tell me he’s alive. Tell me my son is okay.”

The doctor shook his head, his face somber. "I'm so sorry."

My world shattered. In that moment, everything ceased to exist but the pain. I turned to Fred, my voice broken. “You did this. You killed him. You and your selfish, careless life.”

He tried to back away, but I grabbed his shirt, screaming, scratching, pouring my rage into every word. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to know what he’d done.

Finally, I let go, falling to my knees. "You wanted a divorce, Fred? Fine. You’ll have it. But I swear, I will never forgive you. I will make you regret this, if it takes every breath in my body.”