Walking Away While Pregnant: Dear Ex-Husband, I Don't Love You Anymore Chapter 2

"Daddy... I’m scared it’ll hurt. I don’t want the shot... sob..."

The little boy tilted his chin up as he spoke, looking at the man. His delicate, beautiful face was fully revealed.

Elise’s breath caught.

Her eyes locked onto the child’s face. He looked almost exactly like Dylan. And he was calling him Daddy.

Did that an... Dylan had been unfaithful?

The color drained from Elise’s face.

It felt as though soone had carved a piece straight out of her heart. The pain was so sharp it made her whole body tremble uncontrollably.

Dylan crouched slightly, his voice soft with rare patience as he coaxed the child, "Be good, Robin. The shot will help you get better. Daddy’s here with you—we’ll be brave together, okay?"

"Then if I get the shot like a good boy... can Daddy stay with tonight?" the child asked, his voice still thick with tears. "Mommy said tomorrow is my fifth birthday. I want to open my eyes and see Daddy first thing!"

The man’s long fingers gently stroked the boy’s head. "Alright. Daddy promises."

"Thank you, Daddy! You’re the best! I love you the most!"

A faint smile curved his lips. "I love you too."

The child’s innocent, tender voice... the man’s patient reassurance... Every word felt like a blade, cutting Elise apart piece by piece.

Five years old. The boy was already five.

An invisible hand seed to clutch her heart and twist violently. Her stomach churned.

Covering her mouth, Elise turned away in a panic and retched into a nearby trash can.

The sound caught the boy’s attention.

He turned his head toward the corner and pointed at her. "Daddy, there’s an auntie over there. She looks sick too... she seems really uncomfortable."

Dylan frowned slightly. Hearing the retching, an inexplicable unease stirred within him.

Holding the boy, he stood, about to step forward—

"Dylan!"

He paused and turned toward the voice.

At that instant, Elise froze mid-motion.

She would recognize that voice anywhere.

A woman in a tailored suit hurried over. She reached out and touched the child’s flushed cheek, her expression full of concern. "What did the doctor say?"

"There’s inflammation—it’s causing the recurring fever," Dylan replied, his voice low. "He needs an IV. Let’s go pay first, then take him for the injection."

"Okay." The woman nodded, her gaze soft with worry as she looked at the boy. "Robin, I’m sorry Mommy ca so late."

The boy shook his head. "Daddy said Mommy is busy with work. I know Mommy works hard. I’m not mad."

"Our Robin is so thoughtful," she said, stroking his head. Then she looked at Dylan. "Let carry him?"

"It’s fine. He’s pretty heavy..."

The man held the child in his arms, the woman walking beside him.

A family of three, moving farther and farther away.

At the corner, Elise clung to the wall just to stay upright. Her face was as pale as paper, tears blurring her vision.

Until today, she had never imagined that Dylan—aloof and untouchable as he seed—would betray her.

Just as she had never imagined that Quinn Foster would betray her either.

One was the man she had loved with her whole heart. The other was a girl she had once pulled out of the mountains of debt—soone she had personally supported through college, who had called her sister with unwavering devotion.

...

By the ti Elise ca back to her senses, her car had already stopped beneath the shade of trees outside a villa.

Through the window, she watched as Dylan’s Maybach drove through the gates.

The embossed bronze doors slid shut slowly, sealing off her view completely.

Her hands trembled uncontrollably on the steering wheel. She stared at those closed gates, her breathing growing faster and more erratic in the suffocating silence of the car.

"—Ugh..."

She shoved the door open and stumbled out, one hand clamped over her mouth. Gripping the trunk of a nearby tree, she retched violently.

It took a long while before the spasms in her stomach finally subsided.

Unsteady, she forced herself upright, wiping away the tears that soaked her face. Still leaning against the tree, she slowly turned back.

Her gaze swept over the villa before her—so familiar even in its architectural style—that the pain in her chest had dulled into sothing almost numb.

In the heart of North City, where even a single property was impossibly rare, the luxury residential district was divided into zones.

Her marital ho with Dylan—Starsea Residence—was in Zone A.

This villa—Orchard Residence—stood in Zone B.

The two hos were separated by nothing more than a thousand-ter stretch of internal road.

So this was where he had built another life behind her back.

A ho. A child.

With Quinn.

How long had it been?

That boy was five years old.

Which ant that during the very five years she had been trapped in grief, unable to escape the loss of her children... Dylan had been here, living a warm and complete life as part of a family of three.

He had a new ho. A new child.

Why would he care about the twins who had died before they were even born?

Elise got back into the car and shut the door.

Sitting there, she almost cruelly tortured herself—pulling out her phone and dialing Dylan’s number again.

He didn’t answer the first call.

She dialed again.

And again.

She lost count of how many tis she called—just like in the past five years, when she would spiral out of control and call him over and over, knowing he wouldn’t pick up, yet unable to stop herself from pressing that button.

Until night fell.

Until her phone battery died and shut off, slipping from her grasp.

She blinked her aching eyes, tears spilling silently.

Lights flickered on across the villa district, their glow spilling into the darkened car.

As if guided by instinct, Elise lifted her gaze toward the second-floor master bedroom.

Through the sheer curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows, she could just make out two figures—locked in an embrace.

Her lips pressed tightly together. She tried to steady herself, to stay calm.

But her chin trembled uncontrollably.

It felt as though a blade was twisting rcilessly inside her chest—agony laced with despair, driving her to the brink of madness.

Her hand reached for the door handle.

But the mont she pushed it open, her eyes caught sight of the pregnancy report lying on the center console.

The words her children had spoken in her dream echoed in her mind.

In the end, she let go.

From this mont on... the child in her womb would belong to her alone.

***

After returning ho, Elise carefully put away the pregnancy report.

That night, Dylan didn’t co back. He didn’t even return a single call.

Elise stopped calling him altogether. She lay quietly in bed, eyes open, staring into the darkness until dawn.

When the first rays of morning sunlight spilled into the room, she turned over, sat up, and opened her contacts.

Then she dialed a lawyer.

Madeline Pierce—her university friend—let out a helpless sigh when she heard Elise say she wanted a divorce.

"Elise... when the children were lost, Dylan must have suffered too. It’s been five years. You should try to let go."

Elise had heard these words too many tis.

All their mutual friends had said the sa—pitying her grief, yet always urging her to understand Dylan’s difficulties.

There had even been tis when she questioned herself.

Until yesterday.

Until she saw him—with Quinn and their child.

Only then did she realize how foolish she had been.

How could Dylan have been suffering?

He had been living in that warm, perfect family—enjoying everything she had lost.

When he ca back to her, he probably saw nothing but a hysterical, unreasonable woman.

In truth, the signs had been there all along—every ti he claid work or social obligations and stayed away from ho.

She just hadn’t wanted to see them.

The thought of that little boy made her heart clench painfully.

Her children... they deserved better than this.

After a night of cold clarity, the resentnt and hatred in her chest had reached their peak.

Her voice turned icy.

"Madeline, I want a divorce. Dylan is at fault. I want him to leave with nothing."

"What?!" Madeline sounded stunned, even stamring. "He’s at fault? He... he cheated? That can’t be possible."

"He’s been living with Quinn Foster behind my back," Elise said, her voice tightening. "They even have a son."

She paused, her throat choking with emotion before she forced the words out—

"Maddy... that child is five years old. The sa age my children would have been..."