Mr. CEO's Pregnant Ex-Wife

Hopeless

Never had I despised my husband as deeply as I did at that moment.

If glares had the power to wound, his body would have been riddled with bullet holes from the piercing look I directed at him.

His affair with his secretary was one thing, but accusing me of infidelity was a whole other level of betrayal. Even though he never laid a hand on me, his accusations felt like a brutal slap to the face.

"Cheating on you, you say?" I couldn't help but laugh, finding the idea ridiculous. "Don't accuse me of something you've been doing behind my back!” 

It was as if my words had not reached him at all, as he repeated, "Why did you cheat on me, Phoenix?"

SLAP!

My palms collided with his cheek before I could stop myself.

The force of my slap left a red imprint on his face, causing his composure to falter momentarily. I felt no remorse, only a desire to deliver another slap to his other cheek to even things out. But even that wouldn't suffice. He deserved more than a slap.

His face registered shock as his hand gently grazed the spot where my palm had been. His expression twisted with anger, but to my surprise, he held back from physically lashing out at me.

"Why.... Why did you have to cheat on me? I deserve to know the truth, Phoenix."

"Damn you Ace Carter Greyson. How dare you accuse me of things I never did." I spat out bitterly, holding back the frustrated tears. "Stop blaming me for your mistakes, Ace!" 

Laughing bitterly, Ace tightened his grip on my hand, refusing to let me go no matter how much I struggled. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" he sneered. "I wasn't the one who destroyed our marriage, Phoenix. It was you," he accused, his eyes reflecting a deep sense of hurt and betrayal..

I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling within me. How could he play the victim when it was he who had committed the very actions he accused me of? Fed up with the endless cycle of denial and false accusations, I shot him a glare that could freeze even the fiery depths of hell. 

With a calm demeanor, I met his gaze head-on. "No, Ace," I stated firmly. "It was you who destroyed our relationship by asking for a divorce. You're hurling accusations at me to alleviate your own guilt. You want me to shoulder the blame for our failed marriage, but I refuse to let you drag me down any further. I've had my fill of your games."

"Stop lying. I know you cheated on me with my brother." 

I couldn't help but burst into laughter. I thought I had heard more than enough ridiculous accusations from him, but the claim that I had cheated with his own brother was the most absurd and entertaining one yet.

"I never once cheated on you." declared. "I would never betray you even if someone put a shotgun to my head! I'm not like you, Ace. If you don't believe me, the problem lies with you, not me."

"You -"

Ace raised his arm in the air, poised to strike, and I braced myself for the anticipated blow, closing my eyes tightly. However, the expected strike never came.

I cautiously opened my eyes to find Ace's hand lowering back to his side. He turned abruptly and stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

He exited the room, but my shaking wouldn't stop. I was sure he was going to hit me!

Trembling, I slowly made my way to the bed and collapsed onto it before my legs gave out. I couldn't believe my own husband had accused me of having an affair with his brother.

I would never betray him like that! As I buried my face in my hands, Ace's foolish accusations continued to echo in my mind, and I found it hard to move past them. Could someone have been trying to sabotage our relationship from the start? If so, who could that be?

The sound of a gentle knock on the door snapped me out of my reverie. I quickly wiped away the tears that had silently trickled down my cheeks and rushed to answer the door. 

Standing before me was a hotel staff member, dressed in an elegant royal blue blouse and a knee-length pencil skirt. Her hair was neatly pinned back with a blue ribbon. "I'm here to deliver your lunch," she announced. 

I opened the door wider to provide enough space for her to push the food trolley forward. "I did not remember ordering anything."

The hotel attendant wheeled the food trolley near the glass table before answering. "Mr. Greyson ordered it for you, Ma'am. He said you haven't eaten anything and asked me to deliver the food to this room."  she explained, carefully transferring the contents of the trolley and placing them on top of the table.

I was surprised that he had ordered food for me. He must have been consumed with guilt for almost laying a hand on me. He's doing this to ease that guilt.

When the hotel staff finished placing everything on the table her gaze shifted back to me. "If you need my assistance, please don't hesitate to call the front desk Ma'am."

She gracefully made her way to the door and disappeared behind it.

Curious about the hotel's menu, I walked over to the table to see what they had prepared. Despite not feeling hungry, the enticing aroma of the warm food made my stomach rumble. It then dawned on me that I had eaten little while I was confined at the hospital. 

I sat down on the chair and picked the cutlery. Various dishes were beautifully plated in front of me, and all of them were my favorites. But the dish that stood out the most to me was Mom's (and my) favorite food—chopsuey. The sight made me tear up.

The presence of her favorite dish served as a painful reminder of her absence, and I found myself losing my appetite.