He chose her over me_ now he wants me backChapter 1
Mia's Point of View
"Did you get the text I sent you? Jasmine hasn't had the best appetite lately. Make sure you find out her favorite meals and prepare them," my husband, Robert Wood, said as he walked into our living room.
His heavily pregnant mistress, Jasmine, was clinging onto him as if he were her lifeline.
"And fix that ugly face of yours. Don't ruin her mood and affect the baby!" he snapped at me when he noticed my sullen expression. "Now that she is in her second trimester, her body is fragile, and she needs a more conducive room to rest. You'll pack your things and move to the guest room," he added, leaving no room for arguments.
I can't believe he's doing this right now. It's our sixth wedding anniversary, and instead of spending it with me, he decided to bring his mistress and her mother home.
"What are you still waiting for? Go and pack your things," he said.
Without bothering to respond, I picked up my suitcase that I had already prepared and walked toward the door.
"Ma'am, you..." our housekeeper tried to stop me, but Robert's loud, mocking laugh stopped her.
"Don't stop her. Let her leave if she wants. She'll come back before the end of today and beg me to accept her back," he said.
Immediately after he said that, Jasmine and her mother roared with laughter. They began making bets on how long it would take for me to come back.
If only they knew I'm serious this time. A cab was already waiting outside, and I'm not coming back once I walk past this door.
> > >
Just as I made it to the door, Robert called me back.
"I heard you have a dreamcatcher. How about you leave it behind?"
"Why?" I found myself asking as I instinctively held onto the dreamcatcher hanging around my neck.
"Jasmine is having nightmares lately. It's not good for the baby. Hand it over," he said in a commanding tone.
I shook my head as I took defensive steps backward.
This is the only memory of my mother that I have left. I can't let it go to someone who doesn't know its worth. He sighed when he saw my reaction.
"Fine. Since you think it's worth something, then name your price!"
Price? He thinks everything is about money? I wanted to refuse. I wanted to slap him and leave, but I remembered the last time I tried that—I was deprived of food for three days.
"Alright," I replied.