“Gabriel, are you seriously nning to keep lying to Elena forever? She’s been working as a waitress during the day and driving for rideshare at night just to pay off your debts.”


    “Last week she got soaked in the rain and ran a fever of 102 degrees, but she still wouldn’t go to the hospital because of the money. How can you stand watching her suffer like this?”


    My husband Gabriel’s voice carried irritation as he replied.


    “Vera had my kid, and since I can’t marry her, the least I can do is give her everything I’ve got. As for Elena, I’ll stick around and take care of her for life – think of it as making up for what I did.”


    I stood there frozen outside our door, listening to every damn word.


    Still holding my shitty paycheck, stomach full of stale gas station bread.


    Silent tears ran down my


    face.


    So all the money I’d made by destroying my health, all those dark circles from barely eating and working myself to death – hell, it was ALL just so he could set up his side piece with the good life.


    In his whole perfectly nned future, there was NEVER any damn room for me!


    After hearing those words, my chest felt like it was being carved up by a rusty dull knife, each breath tasting of blood.


    When Gabriel’spany went belly up and his business partner screwed him over by taking all the cash, debt collectors were at our door throwing red paint everywhere. He was curled up on the ground with his head in his hands, saying he wanted to kill himself.


    That’s when I started working as a waitress during the day, running a night market stall, then driving rideshare after that – all just to pay off his debts.


    During the scorching summer heat, I handed out flyers in 104–degree weather, my peeling sunburned back sticky with sweat. He held my hands and promised, “Once <b>I </b>get back on my feet, I’ll make sure you live the good life.”


    For five years, I bought discounted expired vegetables from the supermarket, boiling them over and over to get rid of the smell, while I gnawed on rock–hard bread.


    He said starting his business needed cash flow, so I secretly transferred all my savings into his ount. <i>I </i>wouldn’t even buy myself a $2.99 T–shirt.


    My shopping bag suddenly crashed to the ground with a loud rustle. Half a bag of rice mixed with wilted vegetables spilled out, the rotten leaves still stained with mud from when I’d bargained with vendors. To save fifty cents, I’d argued with that stall owner for ten minutes.


    He Cmart Uouse Was Cheating On Me!


    47.7%


    Chapter <b>1 </b>


    Sharp, tearing pain suddenly shot through my lower back. I slid down the wall to sit on the ground as blood drops seeped through my pants, staining the concrete with dark spots.


    Gabriel heard the noise and rushed out of the house, his pupils contracting when he saw the blood.


    “What the hell happened to you?”


    I grabbed his pant leg through gritted teeth, my voice shaking with pain.


    “Quick… get me to the hospital. I think the baby’sing.”


    Gabriel frantically pulled out his phone to call for an ambnce, and his fingers kept trembling over the keypad.


    When they loaded me onto the stretcher, he stood in the hallway doorway looking relieved, like he’d just dropped off some heavy burden.


    In the delivery room, I woke up from the arguing family next to me after the anesthesia wore off.


    A nurse stood by my bed holding a bill, “Mrs. Hayes, your husband only paid the deposit. The rest of the fees need to be settled today.”


    I dragged my IV–attached hand over to the nurses‘ station. From the end of the hallway came Gabriel’s gentle voice.


    “Get the kid into the best school, the best sses. If you need more money, I’ll transfer it to you.”


    My heart clenched tight. I leaned against the wall and peered around the corner to see Gabriel looking tenderly at a mother and child in front of him.


    The diamond bracelet dangling from Vera’s wrist was the “client gift” he’d mentionedst week.


    That kid’s outfit cost more than my monthly sry.


    Meanwhile, my baby was wrapped in rough hospital clothes, his little face red and irritated from the coarse fabric.


    I tried to force a smile, but tears came first.


    So all my life savings I’d gambled on helping him, all that blood money I’d saved up while enduring pain – it was just funding his other family.


    Gabriel’s idea of “getting back on his feet” NEVER included sharing any of it with me!


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