He Keeps the Mistress, I Keep My Pride

"Wait!"

The car had barely left when Isaac Jones suddenly called for the driver to stop.

My heart jolted. I rolled down the window and watched him jog over. He was panting as he spoke. "Give me the lucky charm I got you. Candy hasn't been feeling well lately. She's falling sick all the time."

I stared into his eyes, then suddenly laughed at myself for my earlier reaction.

Back then, I had passed out after saving Isaac's mother from nearly drowning. Isaac had traveled all the way to a famous hilltop chapel, climbing thousands of steps just to pray for my safety and bring back that charm.

At the time, he'd sworn with reddened eyes that he would never let me down for as long as he lived.

Seeing me smile, he looked somewhat guilty. A second later, he transferred another ten thousand dollars to my account.

So, the devotion I had once believed was real was apparently worth ten thousand dollars.

Without hesitation, I removed the lucky charm I'd worn every day for three years and placed it in his hand.

Isaac's gaze fell on my ring finger.

"You already took off your wedding ring?"

I looked down at the scar on my ring finger, which had yet to fully heal.

A month ago, Candy Peterson had shown up at our house without warning. The moment Isaac heard her voice, he'd practically jumped off of me. While frantically pulling on his clothes, he'd shoved me toward the bathroom.

Just before Candy reached the bedroom door, Isaac had ripped off his wedding ring and yanked mine off too. He'd been so rough that the ring sliced a long gash across my finger.

As he looked at the scar now, he clearly remembered that day as well. Awkwardly, he said, "I'll have a new one made for you, with a bigger and better diamond."

Clearly, our original wedding rings were already long gone.

I didn't respond and simply checked my watch. I said indifferently, "She'll be here in ten minutes."

Isaac blinked as if waking from a dream. He turned around and headed back toward the mansion, ordering the staff to make sure it was spotless. Not a single trace of me could be left behind.

I rolled the window back up and told the driver, "Take me to the hospital."

Dr. Lawson, whom I hadn't seen in months, looked at my test report and broke into a surprised smile. "Congratulations, Mrs. Jones. You're about one month pregnant. We can already detect a heartbeat. I told you. You're still young, and as long as you take care of yourself, you'd have another baby someday."

I lowered my gaze and said softly, "I'm here to schedule an abortion."

Shock flashed across Dr. Lawson's face. "You don't want the baby? But you and Mr. Jones worked so hard to conceive again…"

My hand instinctively rested on my stomach. After a long silence, I shook my head. "I don't want it."

The first time I learned about Candy, I was eight months pregnant. I'd jumped into my car and sped down the highway at nearly 100 miles an hour, determined to confront the homewrecker.

Isaac caught up to me quickly and tried to force me to pull over. What he hadn't expected was that I'd drive straight into him.

We lost our baby on the spot, and I spent three days unconscious before waking up.

To make it up to me, Isaac put his entire company on hold. For six months, he barely left my side. He hired nutritionists, learned how to prepare specialized meals, and fed me himself.

I thought he had changed. Then, I discovered he'd simply moved Candy to a neighboring city.

When I threw the evidence in his face, his expression turned cold.

"Grace Stewart, I've already given you the respect and status that comes with being my wife. In our social circle, who doesn't have a mistress? My mom and aunts can all live with it. Why can't you? If you'd been more understanding, our baby wouldn't have died."

I was too stunned to speak. It felt as though rust had sealed my throat shut.

Seeing me frozen there, Isaac sighed. "What I feel for Candy is just the thrill of the chase. I promise you, once I'm done with her, I'll settle down. Isn't that enough?"

That night, I sat alone beneath our enormous wedding portrait until the sun came up.

The next day, with swollen eyes, I told him I wouldn't make a scene anymore. I even agreed to help maintain the public image that he was single.

Overjoyed, Isaac held me and kissed me, over and over, convinced I'd finally come to my senses.

In reality, I simply lacked the courage to let go of our five years of love. So, I chose the way that was like a dull blade carving through my flesh, little by little, until I no longer felt anything.

What I hadn't expected was that the last time Candy came over, Isaac locked me inside the bathroom to hide me from her. By the time he remembered I was there, it was already too late to take emergency contraception.

As I walked out of the operating room, I sent a text message.

"I'm ready. When are you coming to pick me up?"