His love is full of lies

I wanted revenge for my marriage, so my boyfriend married his childhood sweetheart.

He was beaming, eyes full of happiness.

The wedding date?

The same day I found out I was pregnant.

I touched my stomach and went straight to the hospital.

While I was having a miscarriage, he was praying for the safety of his other child.

But later, seeing my flat stomach, he roared at me like a madman.

“Sarah, you lunatic! Who told you to get rid of it?”

The wedding date was April 17th.

That was also the day I found out I was pregnant.

Meaning, Mark was with me that morning getting the test results, and that afternoon, he married Olivia.

My fingers trembled, barely holding the thin document.

In the two years since Mark and I reconnected, we both seemed to have let go of our painful past.

But now, it seems I was the only one who let go.

I was the only one who wanted to continue loving him.

I wiped my tears, putting the marriage certificate back.

But my heart pounded uncontrollably, each beat making my hand twitch.

I held my left hand still, then slammed my right fist on the desk, again and again.

“Stop moving! I said stop moving, can’t you understand?”

I screamed hysterically, tears gushing like a spring.

My heart ached, my hand ached, and my stomach ached too.

I bent over, crying, placing my hand on my twitching belly.

“Baby, be good, stop fussing. Mommy’s okay. Mommy will protect you.”

Three months pregnant, I was constantly looking forward to this child’s birth.

I remember the day we got the results, Mark was overjoyed. He excitedly hugged me, stammering with happiness.

He said he was the happiest man in the world.

A beautiful wife, a lovely child.

I laughed through my tears. How could I have believed him?

How could I have believed he’d truly forgotten the past and wanted to start over with me?

“Why are your eyes red? Have you been crying again?”

Mark bent down to change his shoes, then came over and hugged me.

I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the ache in my chest, but in that instant, I smelled a faint perfume.

Not strong, even mixed with the smell of nicotine, but I still smelled it.

I was sure I wasn’t mistaken. That gardenia scent, I’d smelled it on Olivia.

I closed my eyes and pushed Mark away.

He frowned, his voice laced with coldness.

“Sarah, what’s wrong? Is it the baby again?”

He seemed exasperated, gently stroking my swollen belly, as if soothing the child inside.

He looked every bit the doting father, his gentle expression making me doubt the authenticity of that marriage certificate.

“Mark, when are we getting married?”

The day I found out I was pregnant, I mentioned getting a marriage license. I didn’t want a big belly in the photos.

But Mark said there was no rush. We could get the license and have the wedding after the baby was born.

Then we could even take pictures with the baby.

I thought that was meaningful, so I agreed.

For three months, I hadn’t mentioned marriage again.

Today, when I brought it up, Mark’s eyes darted around.

He sighed wearily, “Didn’t we say we’d think about it after the baby is born? Sarah, have you forgotten again? Is it pregnancy brain?”

Mark tugged at his tie and stood up. “I’m going to take a shower. Don’t overthink it. We’ll definitely get married.”

He went into the bedroom, leaving his phone on the coffee table.

Soon, messages popped up one after another. The contact name was “Liv.”

My breath hitched. I picked up the phone and unlocked it.

Scrolling through the messages.

“Home yet?”

“You wouldn’t believe it, the baby’s been kicking nonstop since you left.”

“Honey, do you think he’s extra perceptive? Like he knows his daddy isn’t here to sleep with him, so he’s upset.”

“But don’t worry, I’ll soothe him. I’ll tell him his daddy loves him very much.”

My fingers trembled as I slowly put down the phone.

Those messages were like sharp thorns, stabbing into my heart.

Honey? Baby?

So, they were the real family.

I was just an outsider.

2

Mark came out, his hair still dripping.

I gripped my glass tighter. It was time to clear things up.

I opened my mouth, my throat dry.

“Mark.”

Before I could finish, his phone rang.

He frowned and walked to the balcony, even closing the sliding glass door.

Through the glass, I saw his eyebrows furrow and relax, but a doting smile remained on his lips.

My lips twitched. I lowered my gaze, suppressing my emotions.

A short while later, Mark hung up, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Something came up at work. I have to go deal with it. Sarah, you go to sleep, don’t wait up for me.”

He bent down and kissed my forehead, his voice tender and affectionate.

“Be good, get some rest.”

I watched his retreating figure, my heart sinking.

It was almost ten o’clock. What could possibly require him to go to the office so late?

And that phone call, it could only be Olivia.

Olivia and Mark were childhood sweethearts, deeply in love.

When Mark and I started dating, she’d secretly approached me, telling me to stay away from him.

Of course, I refused, and we had a huge fight.

She got angry and ran off. Mark just waved it off, saying she was childish and would be back in a couple of days.

Now, because of Olivia’s phone call, he didn’t hesitate to lie to me.

My stomach suddenly cramped. After a series of spasms, my hands and feet went cold, and beads of sweat appeared on my forehead.

I called Mark. As soon as he answered, his impatient voice came through.

“Sarah.”

“Mark, my stomach hurts. Can you come back and take me to the hospital?”

There was traffic noise on the other end. Mark suddenly scoffed.

“You get stomach pains as soon as I leave? Sarah, you’re really good at this. Even better than two years ago.”

“If it really hurts, go to the hospital. I’m not a doctor, I can’t cure you.”

My breath caught. The next second, the line went dead.

Comforting the baby in my womb, I endured the pain and called 911.

Mark had changed. Compared to his college days, all his gentleness now wore a mask.

It was a mask I only began to peel back two years later.

After a series of tests, the doctor told me the pain was caused by emotional stress.

He glanced beside me, frowning. “You came alone? Where’s your husband?”

I pursed my lips. The word “husband” sounded incredibly ironic.

“I don’t have a husband.”

The doctor’s expression turned strange.

I added, “Can I schedule an abortion?”

The doctor shook his head, as if he’d seen countless women like me.

He wrote out a form. The surgery was scheduled for three days later.

“Get plenty of rest these next few days. Try to stay calm. You’re young, take care of yourself.”

I listened to his well-meaning advice, my heart aching.

When the elevator doors opened, I walked in with my head down.

A surprised “Sarah?” brought me back to reality.

Mark pulled me into a corner.

“Why are you here at the hospital?”

His tone was accusatory, as if he suspected I was following him.

I showed him the form, and the coldness in his eyes dissipated slightly.

He reached out and touched my belly, a smile playing on his lips.

“You little rascal, making mommy suffer. Just wait till you’re born, I’ll teach you a lesson.”

My eyes suddenly welled up.

That slightly fatherly tone made me think he was looking forward to this child, too.

I looked away, silently taking two steps back.

Mark’s hand froze in midair, his expression darkening.

I said softly, “The doctor said the baby was moving because I was stressed. My stomach is still cramping.”

Hearing my explanation, Mark’s face softened.

He took my hand and led me to an upscale restaurant.

“My baby’s been working hard carrying our child. I blame myself for being too busy lately and not having enough time for you.”

“How about I make it up to you today?”

3

Mark didn’t explain why he was at the hospital.

I didn’t ask.

It was as if we’d just bumped into each other by chance and then decided to have dinner.

Throughout the meal, he remained calm, showing no sign of guilt.

I cut the steak, but my hands felt weak.

Looking up, I met Mark’s deep gaze.

Those eyes seemed to hold the chill of a thousand winters.

The next second, the ice melted, replaced by a smile.

“Let me help you.”

“Are you still feeling unwell? Should we go back to the hospital for another checkup?”

The knife scraped against the plate, making a screeching sound.

I shook my head. Mark placed the plate in front of me.

“There you go. Try it. I remember you loved the steak here back in college.”

I put a piece in my mouth, but it no longer tasted the same. Instead, there was a hint of bitterness.

Mark’s phone suddenly lit up. He glanced at it, his eyes softening instantly.

But a second later, he put down the phone and silenced it.

“Why didn’t you answer?”

Mark raised an eyebrow, his voice gentle. “Let’s finish dinner first. Nothing else matters.”

My grip on the knife tightened. How could that call not matter? It was from his wife, the mother of his child.

I ate absentmindedly, while Mark seemed to have a good appetite. I could sense his good mood.

Was it because he was enjoying the process of revenge? Enjoying my obliviousness?

I drank a glass of water, suppressing the bitterness in my heart.

“I’m full. Take me home.”

Back at my apartment, Mark left without even stepping inside. He said he had work to do, but I knew he was going to the hospital.

I’d seen Olivia’s name on the screen outside her room as we walked past.

She was hospitalized.

I touched my stomach. Three more days, and this life would become nothing more than blood and tissue.

I packed my bags, thinking I’d explain everything to Mark when he returned.

Hate me, take revenge on me, but at least let this relationship end clearly.

But for three days, Mark didn’t come back.

When I called, he used the excuse of a business trip.

It wasn’t until I passed Olivia’s room and saw Mark leaning close to her belly that I realized nothing mattered anymore.

There was no need to expose his lies, no need to ask for reasons.

Just leave quietly.

The day I had the procedure, Olivia was also wheeled into the operating room.

At the end of the corridor, I saw Mark pacing anxiously, every step filled with unease.

He clasped his hands together, praying for the safety of that child.

But today, his other child was gone.

And he knew nothing about it.

I lowered my gaze, leaving a letter on Olivia’s bedside table.

Then, I picked up my suitcase and went to the airport.

This time, I thought, was the true farewell between Mark and me.

I sat in the waiting area, my stomach still aching.

Hearing my phone ring, I weakly answered.

As soon as I picked up, Mark’s gloomy voice came through.

“Sarah, tell me, what do you mean ‘never see you again’?”

“Are you trying to run away again?”

I remembered. At the end of the letter, I had written those words.

I remembered graduation day. Everyone was preparing to embrace their new futures.

Mark was also preparing to embrace our future together.

He was so excited that day, his voice trembling slightly.

He said, “Sarah, we’ll have a house, a cat, and two kids.”

He rambled on, and I laughed, then cried.

I didn’t want to burst his bubble, not at all.

So, I let him fantasize for the entire day.

He drank a lot that day, got very drunk, and even mumbled about our future in his sleep.

But when he woke up the next day, he couldn’t find me. He only found that brown envelope on the bedside table.

In that letter, I think I also wrote, “never see you again.”

But who knew we’d meet again three years later?

And even get back together.

I opened my mouth, a lump forming in my throat.

Mark’s breathing was heavy. I knew he was furious.

But I didn’t know if he was angry that he hadn’t fully enjoyed his revenge, or if he was angry that I had discovered his scheme.

Maybe both.

“Mark,” I said softly, my voice choked with emotion.

“Actually, when I saw that marriage certificate, it really hurt. It hurt so much I could barely breathe.”

“Then I found out about Olivia’s pregnancy, and it hurt even more.”

“Congratulations. Your revenge was successful. Now, can you please let me go?”

After a long silence, Mark scoffed. “So you found out. How disappointing. I was planning to tell you after you gave birth.”

“Sarah, you were married too, you shouldn’t mind, should you?”

“What are you so upset about now?”