All Chapters of Rejected by my Husband: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Karline’s POV My fork clinked softly against the porcelain as I pushed back my chair. My chest felt tight, the air in the room suffocating. “Excuse me,” I murmured, forcing calm into my tone. “I’m not feeling well. I’ll go and rest.” I was halfway up when Natalie’s sweet voice cut through the hum of the dinner conversation. “Not feeling well?” She tilted her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Oh… pregnancy hormones must be kicking in.” The room fell into stunned silence. Richard’s fork dropped against his plate. Lydia’s wineglass froze halfway to her mouth. Aunt Clara blinked in surprise, and even Uncle Henry sat straighter. But it was Daniel’s voice that broke the silence, sharp with disbelief. “Pre… pregnant?” His eyes shot straight to me, then to Reid. “She’s pregnant?” My heart thudded painfully. I looked at Reid, confused, my voice trembling. “Reid… you didn’t tell them?” I was three and a half months along. How could he not have told his family? A dozen voices

Karline’s POVNine months.That’s how long I lived like a ghost in my own home.Reid was there, but he wasn’t with me. His presence was cold, calculated, like a stranger who shared the same roof. He never raised his voice, never lashed out, but his silence was louder than any cruelty.Every morning, I would wake up clutching my stomach, praying today might be different. Maybe he’d ask if I slept well, maybe he’d touch my belly, maybe he’d smile even faintly. But all I’d get was his back as he buttoned his shirt, his hand reaching for his tie, his voice low and detached.“Breakfast is on the table?”I’d nod, holding back tears. “Yes, Reid.”He’d leave without even looking at me, the sound of the door closing echoing through the emptiness of my chest.At night, it was the same. He slept in the guest bedroom. I would wait, sometimes preparing his favorite dishes, hoping he’d at least sit with me for dinner. Sometimes he came late, too late to eat. Sometimes he came early but didn’t touch

Reid’s POVMy knuckles hurt as I punched him again. The sound echoed, dull and sharp at once. His head snapped back, blood running from the corner of his mouth.“Tell me!!!” I barked. My chest rose and fell like a man about to lose control. “What’s the truth?”Adrian groaned, his voice broken but sly, slippery. “Believe me, Mr. Carter… I’m telling you the truth…” His swollen lips curved into something almost like a smile, a cruel one. “Your wife ..Mrs. Carter herself...came to me the moment you left her. She said it… she said she was feeling horny. She didn’t want to sleep alone.”I froze for a second, the word cutting deep. “What did you just say?”He coughed, wiped his mouth, and forced himself to look me in the eye. “You heard me. She wanted it. She told me you left her cold… that she needed someone to… to touch her. To make her feel wanted.”Rage swirled inside me, but under it, a sharp stab of doubt twisted. “You expect me to believe that?” I hissed, pressing my fist against his

(Karline’s Point of View)Ethan’s little chest rose and fell as he slept in my arms. His lips parted, a tiny sigh leaving him, and my heart melted just like it always did.I bent down and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “You’re my whole world, Ethan,” I whispered. “And you'll be your father's world too baby. I promise.”The sound of footsteps made me look up. The door pushed open. Reid.But not alone.Natalie trailed behind him, her expression calm, almost smug, like she already knew something I didn’t.Reid’s face was stone. Cold, unreadable, yet so sharp it cut me in half. He didn’t even glance at Ethan, straight at me.“Karline,” his voice was low, clipped, full of ice, “we’re meeting at the court.”I blinked, confused, shifting Ethan gently into his crib. “Co–court? What are you talking about? Reid, what’s going on?”He tossed a white envelope onto the table near me. It slid across the wood, stopping right at my fingertips. My stomach dropped.Another report. Another test.My han

REID’S POINT OF VIEWEleventh? Twelfth? I don’t know anymore.The number of whiskeys? Alcohol? Vodkas? That too I don’t know. I’ve lost count of the shots I’ve taken tonight.The glass in my hand is almost empty, and my reflection in it looks like a ghost. A stranger. Someone I don’t even recognize anymore.Never in my life did I think silence could hurt this much.The mansion is quiet, too quiet. No soft footsteps padding down the hall. No faint hum of her voice as she sang to herself while folding clothes. No baby’s cry echoing from the other room. Nothing. Just silence pressing against my ears, against my chest, until I can’t breathe.And I wonder if this is what death feels like.I tip the glass back, letting the burn scorch my throat. For a fleeting second, it numbs the pain. But the moment passes, and she returns to me again. Her face. Her eyes. Her voice.My Karline.I have loved her. God, I have loved her for years. Seven? Eight? From our college days. Back then she was just