Scars of the Abandoned Bride

My face went pale as I staggered back, then tried to bolt for the door. But before I even got close, Ethan's bodyguards grabbed me, ignoring my struggles as they shoved me into the car and sped off to the hospital.

I shoved my pregnancy report at the doctor, my voice shaky. "Look, this is from your hospital! Tell him I'm actually pregnant. A transfusion could hurt my baby."

The doctor glanced at the report, then shot a quick look at Bella. "This isn't from our hospital. It's fake."

I felt a chill. Bella must've already paid him off. I turned to Ethan, pleading. "He's lying! Take me somewhere else. You'll see—I really am pregnant!"

But Bella slumped against Ethan, her voice all weak and pitiful. "Ethan, I feel horrible... Am I going to die?"

Ethan's face tightened with worry as he held her. "No, Bella, I'm not letting that happen." He looked at the bodyguards. "Hold her down."

I fought back, screaming, "Let me go! Ethan, you're gonna kill my baby! You're a monster!"

Ethan just glared, his voice ice-cold. "Quit the act and give Bella the transfusion."

Helpless, I could only watch as the needle pierced my arm, draining my blood.

By the time they finished, I was dizzy, barely standing. I heard the doctor mutter, "Mr. Carter, the blood isn't enough."

Ethan didn't even flinch. "Then take more."

My vision blurred with rage, and I could feel myself slipping. "Ethan Carter, I hate you!"

He actually looked stunned by the bite in my words. "Grace, is this all because I left early on our wedding day? Once Bella's better, I'll take you and your grandmother on a trip overseas—will that make you happy?"

I shut my eyes, feeling myself fade as I sensed my child slipping away, too.

I drifted into a long, broken dream.

I dreamed about the first time I met Ethan. I'd accidentally hit his car with my scooter, and instead of freaking out about the damage, he took me to the hospital to make sure I was okay.

While I was there, he visited every day, always bringing lilies. When he finally confessed his feelings, I was hesitant—our worlds were nothing alike. But he stayed, patient and attentive.

When I got sick, he cooked for me. On my birthday, he drove eight hours just to surprise me. He'd shown me a warmth I'd never known before, and I fell hard, daring to believe I could actually be loved.

Ethan had been the light in my otherwise empty life.

Then one day, he rushed me to the hospital, saying some girl needed a blood transfusion. She had hemophilia and the same rare blood type—only I could help.

"Bella saved my life once. I owe her," he said.

As his fiancée, I figured his debt was mine too, so I agreed, thinking a little blood wouldn't hurt.

But later, when I found Bella's photo tucked in his wallet, I realized she wasn't just some random girl—they'd had a serious thing. She'd moved abroad after graduation, and eventually, distance had split them up.

That was when it hit me: he'd never really let her go.

When I confronted him, he swore I was the one he loved and even proposed. And I'd been dumb enough to believe it, clinging to those moments he'd once made me feel so loved.

But that stupid faith had cost me my grandma's life... and now, my unborn child. I hated Ethan for it—and I hated myself, too.

When I finally woke up, Bella was there, sitting next to my hospital bed, her face twisted in a smug smile.

"Pathetic," she sneered. "Ethan only went for you because you have my blood type. He needed you as my personal blood bank. You think he'd even look at you otherwise?"

Her words sank in, and my mind spun. Every sweet gesture, every touch—it was all fake. I was just his convenient donor.

Bella pulled out a blood bag, turning it like it was something precious. "Isn't the color beautiful? This is your latest donation to me."

Then, grinning, she dumped it straight into the trash. "Oh, and I don't have hemophilia. I never needed your blood. I've trashed every bag you've given. You're such a fool."

Fury exploded through me. I lunged at her, hands around her throat. "Bella Reid, you're gonna burn in hell for this!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Ethan's voice sliced through the room as he stormed in, yanking me off her.

Weak from the miscarriage, I stumbled back from his shove, crashing into the table. Pain shot through me, and tears blurred my vision.

Forcing myself to stand, I pointed at Bella. "She doesn't have hemophilia! She's been lying to you and tossing out my blood—check the trash if you don't believe me!"

"Enough, Grace," he snapped, ice-cold and dismissive. "I can't believe you'd stoop this low, accusing Bella like that."

I froze, then let out a bitter laugh.

He didn't even bother to look in the trash. He just believed her, no questions asked. His blind loyalty hit like ice, hollowing me out.

Once, he'd been my whole world.

Now, I saw it for what it was—a cruel, empty joke.

"Ethan," I said quietly, "let's get a divorce."