After my husband’s sister became a widow, he wanted to divorce me

Chapter 1

My husband’s stepsister became a widow, and he asked me for a divorce.

I was five months pregnant.

He looked serious and guilty.

“Her kid’s still young. With no one to look after them, they’ll be taken advantage of. I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

I didn’t yell or scream.

I calmly agreed.

Because in my past life, I hadn’t agreed.

I even went to his army base, pregnant, and made a scene to save our marriage.

Jessica Miller, because of her widow status, ended up being bullied in our town.

Some creep even tried to force his way into her house.

It drove her to suicide.

John Carter then resented me.

He spread rumors that I’d forced him to marry me out of obligation.

That I wasn’t a virgin.

I was investigated by the authorities, sent to a labor camp, and eventually died during childbirth in a dilapidated shed.

This time, I was determined to let go.

To get an abortion and continue my studies.

1.

I put down my pen.

Before I could even stand up, John snatched the divorce papers from my hand.

His long fingers gripped the thin sheets of paper.

He immediately handed them to the officer.

The officer took the papers.

His brow furrowed slightly.

He sighed.

“This divorce…ah, what a shame. Once it’s approved, come back to collect the certificate.”

John’s face actually showed a hint of relief.

I sat there, silent.

My gaze fixed on the window.

It was the first day of spring.

But a blizzard had arrived unexpectedly.

Leaving the office, the snow pressed down the color of the sky.

The air around us felt stagnant and suffocating.

John stopped.

He turned slightly to look at me.

His expression earnest.

“Sarah, thank you for understanding.”

“Don’t worry, about Jessica. Once her child is a little older, we can remarry.”

His tone was sincere, as if I should be overflowing with gratitude.

But his words also carried a subtle warning.

“By the way, about our divorce, don’t go around telling everyone. It’ll be troublesome if outsiders find out.”

I paused.

I just said, “Okay.”

He was afraid that my father, a general in Washington D.C., would hinder his career if he found out, right?

We were once husband and wife.

I was willing to maintain a last shred of dignity for him.

He nodded, as if reassured.

His steps quickened.

As I walked towards the car, he suddenly stopped me.

“I have to go pick up Jessica. You can walk back yourself.”

He said, then started the car and drove off.

Snowflakes hit my face.

It was cold.

So cold my skin went numb.

Even my lips felt stiff when I forced a smile.

A pregnant woman like me couldn’t risk walking five miles in this weather.

I had to stay at the guesthouse all day.

I waited until the next day’s bus to get back to town.

As soon as I arrived, I heard the whispers.

The same rumors from my past life about me using obligation to trap him, about me being promiscuous.

The gossipers were animated.

Completely oblivious to the fact that the subject of their discussion was walking right past them.

I didn’t stop to argue.

As I continued walking, I only heard the last sentence.

“Oh, John’s such a decent guy. Ruined for life.”

Back home, my chest felt tight.

My stomach ached faintly.

I didn’t understand why these rumors were still spreading even though I agreed to the divorce.

By midnight, John still hadn’t returned.

I wanted to talk to him about the gossip.

But the stabbing pain in my stomach wouldn’t let me wait any longer.

Just as I was about to lie down, the door finally opened.

He didn’t turn on the lights.

His heavy footsteps brought in a gust of cold air.

He even smelled of rose perfume.

Clearly, he had just come from Jessica’s.

Seeing me on the couch, he looked annoyed and indifferent.

“We’re divorced. You can’t still be trying to control where I go, can you?”

Before, whenever he came home late, I couldn’t help but ask where he’d been, worried about his safety.

But he always found me annoying.

Said I was too controlling.

Now, he acted as if he had every right.

I took a deep breath.

Trying to calm myself.

“Do you know about the things people are saying about me in town? Did you really not marry me willingly?”

His eyes flickered.

He didn’t dare look at me.

But his voice was defiant.

“I don’t have time for gossip. You shouldn’t care…”

The more he avoided my gaze, the more I understood.

He was probably the one spreading those rumors.

Anger and resentment mixed together.

I fought back tears.

“John, you know what happened back then. Why are you trying to smear my name?”

“I agreed to the divorce. What more do you want? You go and clear things up!”

He turned his face.

His eyes were dark and impatient.

“They’re just rumors. What’s there to be upset about?”

“Everyone’s already judging Jessica. If there wasn’t something else to distract them, how could she bear it?”

“Besides, I always wanted to marry Jessica.”

“If you hadn’t been…promiscuous and caused trouble, I wouldn’t have married you out of obligation!”

His words were like whips against my heart.

Humiliating and chilling.

I clenched my teeth.

But I couldn’t stop my emotions from crumbling.

“It was Jessica’s brother who almost assaulted me! You were the one who held me and said you’d marry me. You were the one who told me not to call the police!”

Mentioning it again felt like a nightmare.

After it happened, he, coveting my father’s influence in the army and wanting to protect Jessica’s brother, came to me with promises and reassurances.

“Don’t worry, no one will know about this. Marry me. I’ll love you.”

“If you go to the police, your life will be ruined.”

He repeatedly promised that he would love and cherish me after we married.

I believed him.

Because of marrying him, I had to interrupt my studies and I became pregnant.

He quickly got promoted because of my father’s connections.

He was riding high.

But after just a year, he went back on his word.

Now, for Jessica, he was discarding me like trash.

He froze for a moment.

His lips pressed together.

Clearly, I had briefly exposed the truth.

But in the next second, his expression turned cold.

He even managed a sneer.

“That was me being kind, not wanting your life ruined by something like that.”

“Besides, if you weren’t so… provocative, no one would have wanted to assault you.”

I stared at him.

The man before me felt utterly unfamiliar.

How could he say such cruel and heartless things?

“John, you’re right. It’s all my fault…”

It was my fault for misjudging him.

For mistaking a wolf for a savior.

“Enough,” he interrupted impatiently, not even sparing me a glance.

“Don’t bring up the past. Jessica and her son are moving in in a few days. Pack your things.”

“Don’t cause any trouble. And don’t bully them! Otherwise, get out!”

He said, then turned and walked upstairs indifferently.

Not even bothering to look back at me.

The moment he left, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen.

Beads of cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

My back went numb.

I tried to call out to him.

“John!”

“My…my stomach hurts…”

He stopped and glanced back.

But he didn’t come closer.

“If it hurts, go see a doctor. I’m not a doctor. What are you calling me for?”

“John, I think I’m…”

My voice trembled almost inaudibly.

My legs were weak.

“What are you trying to do? Use the baby to threaten me?”

His voice grew colder.

“I suggest you be reasonable. Don’t play these little games. It’s pointless!”

He watched me coldly for a few seconds.

Then he turned and walked towards his room.

“Don’t forget to move your things out of the bedroom. That’s my last act of kindness.”

Finally, he disappeared.

I gripped the shaking sofa, trying to stand.

But the pain in my abdomen spread throughout my body.

“It hurts…it hurts…”

I tried to save myself.

Clutching my convulsing stomach.

But in the end, I couldn’t.

I collapsed to the floor.

Darkness flooded my vision…

2.

I was jolted awake by a splash of cold water.

Opening my eyes, I saw a little boy with a water pistol, standing in front of me with a look of disgust.

“Hey, who are you?”

“Why are you sleeping in my house?”

Water dripped down my forehead.

The coldness was biting.

I tried to sit up, but my body was weak.

I could still feel a dull ache in my abdomen.

I could only lean against the sofa and gasp for breath.

“Zeke, don’t be rude.” A familiar, sweet voice came.

I turned and saw Jessica.

She was standing a short distance away, gently holding the child’s hand.

“I’m so sorry, Sarah. He’s just a child. He doesn’t know any better.”

She pretended to apologize for her son.

But her tone quickly changed.

“But why are you still here? It’s not that you can’t stay, it’s just that John and I have decided to get married.”

“So, your being here is a little… awkward.”

I suppressed the surge of anger.

Staring coldly at her.

“With a mother who has no morals, it’s no wonder her son has no manners.”

“You!” Before she could speak, the boy named Zeke started yelling.

“Don’t talk about my mom! She’s the best person ever!”

“What are you talking about?”

John came down from upstairs.

When his eyes fell on Jessica, they softened.

He stood before her and quickly glanced at me, his eyes warning.

Jessica lowered her head, her expression gentle but with a hint of feigned hurt.

“It’s nothing. I just saw Sarah hadn’t left, so I came to say hello.”

“But she didn’t seem very happy, and she… insulted us.”

John frowned, clearly distressed for her.

“Didn’t I warn you not to bully them?”

As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his hand and slapped me across the face.

My head rang.

My ears buzzed.

The force of the blow almost knocked me off my feet.

I stumbled backwards.

I bumped into the cabinet behind me, knocking it over.

The vase on top fell to the floor and shattered.

Shards of porcelain flew everywhere, some of them piercing my leg.

The pain sent a jolt through me.

But before I could catch my breath, I heard Jessica gasp.

“Ah—”

I instinctively turned my head.

I saw a thin line of blood on her leg from a shard.

It didn’t look deep.

But it drew everyone’s attention.

“Mommy, you’re hurt!”

John’s face instantly tensed.

Without a word, he walked over and swept Jessica into his arms.

He gently asked if she was hurt, his movements so practiced they made me want to laugh.

He had never shown me such concern, not even through the discomforts of my pregnancy, not even after he had just slapped me to the ground.

“I’ll take you to the clinic. Don’t worry.”

He said, then carried her out without so much as a glance back at me.

I gripped the sofa, trying to stand.

The pain in my abdomen made my legs weak.

The wound on my leg was bleeding steadily.

I looked down, feeling pathetic and ridiculous.

I stumbled towards the door and heard whispers.

Neighbors had gathered, gossiping.

Someone saw John carrying Jessica and called out.

“Hey, Mrs. Carter, what happened? What’s wrong with Jessica?”

John stopped.

He looked up, not hiding at all.

“Jessica is my wife. Her business is my business. From today onwards, no one is allowed to bully her, let alone gossip about her.”

His voice was loud, a deliberate declaration.

“What about Sarah?” Someone couldn’t help but ask.

John paused.

He didn’t turn around.

“She doesn’t deserve to be my wife. We’re divorced.”

Jessica nestled her head against his chest.

A smug, triumphant look on her face, which she didn’t even bother to hide.

I looked at the crowd.

Their eyes were filled with shock, mockery, but not a shred of pity.

I remembered John’s solemn vows at our wedding.

“From this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, I will cherish and protect you…”

Now, those words were the deepest thorns in my heart.

3.

I dragged my bleeding body to the clinic.

The doctor was startled when he saw me.

“Quick, someone help! A pregnant woman is miscarrying!” He yelled, turning to grab his equipment.

My blurry vision saw my blood dripping onto the floor.

My head was spinning, but I clutched my swollen belly.

There, was my child, the child I was going to abort.

Now, leaving me in this way.

Nurses lifted me onto a gurney and rushed me into the operating room.

I vaguely saw John standing at the end of the corridor, a nurse talking to him.

His brow was furrowed, his voice filled with a gentleness I had never heard from him.

“Will she have a scar? Use the best medicine. I don’t want her to be in any pain.”

Then, a sharp pain ripped through my lower abdomen.

It felt like I was being torn apart, inside and out.

As the world spun, I seemed to hear firecrackers outside.

And John’s low voice.

“It’s Valentine’s Day. I’ll make you and Zeke some heart-shaped pancakes when we get home…”

The doctor’s anxious voice filled my ears.

“Quick! She’s losing too much blood. Where’s her family? Does anyone want to donate blood?”

“She…she came in alone. No one seems to be with her.”