He Gave Our Bedroom to Her... So I Disappeared

Chapter 3

I cut the person off mid-sentence, my voice soft as I lowered my gaze, lips pressed tightly together.

"Just give me a few more days. That's all I ask."

When Michael returned to the hospital room, I had just ended the call.

He caught the faint smile tugging at my lips—a kind of peace he hadn't seen on my face in years. Something in his chest tightened unexpectedly.

But he had just promised Daniela he'd be home soon to sing lullabies to her and the baby. So, he didn't have time to ask who I'd been talking to.

He figured it was probably my cousin—the only family member who still talked to me after we got married. I didn't have any friends left. Michael had made sure of that.

Without another word, he gathered his files and said coldly, "Something came up at work. I'll stop by again tomorrow."

But tomorrow came and went.

Then the next day.

And the day after that.

He never showed up again.

Instead, thanks to mutual acquaintances, I started receiving videos.

Michael at dinner with Daniela.

Michael attending galas with Daniela.

Michael grinning like a love-struck teenager, proudly showing her off like she was some kind of prize.

On the day I was discharged from the hospital, he posted a nine-photo collage on his social media.

In the warm glow of a sunset, he stood on a hot air balloon platform, cupping Daniela's face tenderly as they kissed, her cheeks flushed with joy.

I left a comment:

[Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness, and a healthy baby on the way.]

Ten minutes later, my phone rang.

Michael.

I didn't answer.

Thirty minutes after that, I finished the discharge paperwork alone.

As I passed the OB-GYN department on my way out, I saw him.

Michael.

And Daniela, clinging to his arm.

A nurse at the front desk looked up and said sweetly, "Mrs. Hudson, your husband really dotes on you. He's come with you to every single appointment—even warms the ultrasound gel himself so it won't feel cold."

Around them, pregnant women stared in awe, whispering to each other with envy in their eyes.

My hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach.

There had been a baby once. A tiny heartbeat that had lived inside me.

I lost it the day of the accident—too much blood, too late. I'd cried as I video-called Michael from the ER.

But all I saw on the screen was Daniela, naked in bed, grinning.

"Mrs. Hudson," she cooed, "your husband lost a game to me. His punishment? Being tied to the bed. Is there something you need?"

I said nothing. I hung up.

Not even sixty seconds passed before Michael called me back—cradling a teary-eyed Daniela in his arms like she was the one who'd suffered.

And then he yelled at me.

"You're so damn dramatic, Ashlyn. Always looking for attention."

His voice turned sharp with disgust.

"You couldn't even manage to keep your own baby alive. What are you even good for?"

Then came the words that shattered what was left of me.

"Honestly, I wish that truck had just finished the job and killed you."

Back in the present, I was about to take a different hallway, pretend I hadn't seen them—

But Michael noticed me first.

His expression went cold. "Why are you just standing there like an idiot?"

Startled, I quickly stepped back, trying to explain. "I wasn't following you. I just happened to walk by. Sorry if I disturbed you."

"Wait."

He frowned.

At that single word, I caught the flicker of jealousy in Daniela's eyes.

She clung to his arm a little tighter, then gave me a sugary smile.

"Mrs. Hudson, thank you again for the blood donation. I'd still be dizzy today if not for you. You saved me and my baby."

She turned to Michael, lips curling sweetly.

"Michael, why don't we bring Mrs. Hudson home with us? Please?"

Michael reached out and tapped her nose affectionately.

"My sweet angel," he said with a fond smile, "whatever you say."

I had to go home anyway—to pack up what was left of my things.

So I got in the car.

The ride was silent. Uncomfortably so.

Then, just as we hit a red light, something caught my eye—half-tucked between the seat cushions.

A pair of still-damp, lacy panties.

"Oh!" Daniela gasped, her voice full of mock surprise. "How did those get there?"

She turned to Michael with wide, innocent eyes.

"Didn't you say you already took care of that?"