Lost Our Pup After Domestic Abuse

Three months into my pregnancy, my husband, brutally beat me until I had a miscarriage. The scene was horrific.

When my mother went to confront him, he struck her too, leaving her with a bloodied head and needing overnight hospitalization.

Afterward, my husband would kneel on the floor, begging and pleading, "I'm sorry, Clara. I swear I'll never lay a hand on you again and I'll break off all ties with that woman."

Watching the man grovel on his knees, this time, I didn't just sit and endure. Instead, on his birthday, the night he was still tangled up in a hotel with his longtime mistress, I took action.

Under the pretense of celebrating his birthday, I invited friends and relatives, along with his parents and closest buddies.

As everyone sang the birthday song and pushed the cake into the room, they saw the woman lying in bed.

One of my husband's closest friends cried out, "Mom?"

***

Ever since my husband started his affair, he would regularly resort to domestic violence, abusing me to the point where it became his addiction.

I had often been left bruised and battered, crying alone on the couch in the dead of night, clutching my injuries.

Every time I brought up divorce, he would collapse in tears, kneeling and begging, "I'm sorry, Clara! I was wrong. Please don't leave me. I swear I'll change."

He printed an album filled with photos capturing every memory of our relationship, our first meeting, falling in love, the moments we shared.

With his sweet words, he managed to coax me into reconciliation countless times. I foolishly forgave him again and again, only to be left shattered each time.

He roared, "Even if love is gone, there's still the bond of family. Are you really willing to let go of ten years of love? It's like losing a family member. Think about the baby, if not for yourself!"

Gerald's fists cut like bone knives, driving me to despair. Yet his honeyed words would soften my heart time after time.

Until he beat me so severely that I lost our baby, leaving me critically injured and on the brink of death.

That night, when my mother heard the news, she went to confront him, only to be beaten bloody and rushed to the hospital.

That night, when I found out that my three-month-old baby was gone, I lay on the hospital bed, clutching my belly, tears streaming uncontrollably.

My father called the police and Gerald was arrested, but the next day his parents came with their relatives, smashing up our home. They stormed into the hospital, loudly accusing my family of being heartless.

Gerald's mother's voice echoed through the hospital halls and in her fury, she picked up a toothpick from a fruit tray and stabbed it repeatedly into my arm through my hospital clothes, making me scream in agony.

She screamed, "You had my son arrested, leaving a criminal record. What about his future children? Hurry up and tell the police to release him."

His father spoke calmly, "We're all family. Why take it so seriously? Clara, can't you be more forgiving?"

Their words tore me apart, inside and out. Their threats and bribes left my parents suffocating under the pressure.

"Gerald is a good man."

"Everyone gets out of hand sometimes. Hasn't every wife been hit by her husband?"

"A family needs understanding and harmony above all."

Gerald's parents and relatives surrounded my mother and me, preaching incessantly.

Hearing their twisted beliefs, I closed my eyes, my heart dead and numb. Divorce meant severing ties, but it was also a release.

To his family, Gerald was always seen as a well-mannered, good son. He was praised for respecting elders, loving the young and being gentle and courteous.

Yet, when he assaulted me, that facade shattered, leaving only a face twisted in rage.

"Reconciliation is possible, but he must divorce me!" My words left the hospital room in complete silence.

"Since he already has another woman, why not let him have her?" I was speaking not only to myself, but also to Gerald's family, relatives and friends.

One of Gerald's closest friends was Jonah Smith. His family ran a real estate business and he had loved martial arts novels since childhood, fascinated by tales of justice and vengeance.

After his father passed away due to illness, his mother, Sandra, took over the business.

From what I remembered, Jonah's mother, Sandra, was a charming woman in her fifties, still exuding elegance. She had always looked down on my humble family background.

When she found out about my relationship with Gerald, she vehemently opposed it. During my wedding, she even publicly humiliated my family, tearing us apart in front of everyone.

Jonah tried to persuade me with kind but patronizing words, "Clara, don't worry. You know what Gerald's personality is like. Aside from being impulsive and hot-tempered, he doesn't have any major issues. How could Gerald ever have an affair?"

Even he looked down on my family. All of them made every effort to speak highly of Gerald.

About the divorce? They dismissed the idea outright. But reconciliation, they insisted on that.

"Fine!" I felt an unprecedented calm. Love was a feeling, intangible yet deeply sensed. It can bloomed in an instant and vanished just as quickly.

From beginning to end, no one uttered a single word of concern for me. Every conversation revolved around Gerald.

His parents dragged me, against the hospital's advice, out of the ward. Weakened and frail, I was forced to sign a reconciliation agreement at the police station.

In the mediation room, Gerald held my hand, solemnly promising, "Clara, I'm sorry. I lost control last night. I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you! In front of your father, I'll write a formal guarantee that I won't lay a finger on you again. As for the baby, it's gone, but we can always have another."

His casual dismissal of our unborn child, our precious bond of love, disregarded the life that had been growing inside me.

"You two need to get along!" Gerald's friend, Jonah, offered his 'blessings' from the side.

The two of them exchanged knowing glances, understanding each other perfectly. I forced a smile.

Yes, Gerald would indeed never have another chance to touch me. I didn't cry or make a scene.

I quietly watched the two of them put on their charade, completely indifferent to the act they were playing.

When I got home that day, I sat calmly on the couch and curiously asked, "Gerald, tell me, who is the woman? You've hidden her so well! Since things have come this far, why bother concealing it anymore?"

Gerald knew he had another woman and he knew that I was well aware.

We just hadn't broken through the final layer of pretense. But whenever I brought it up, it was like touching a taboo for him.

Sometimes, I could sense that Gerald wasn't doing all this to protect the other person, but to protect himself.

Gerald suddenly lifted his head, his gaze at me fierce and threatening. He never allowed me to bring up these matters in front of him.

He snapped. "Your skin's itching for a beating again?"

The moment he said this, he quickly shut his mouth.

He realized his mistake, remembering that he'd just gotten out of the police station not even a day ago.

"Your skin's itching for a beating again." At first, this was a playful tease he used on me.

But it evolved into a threat and now it signaled that he was about to get violent. I had fought back before.

But in front of a strong, muscular man, especially one who didn't love me, a woman was simply too powerless.

His phone rang, I thought he would avoid me to take the call. But this time, he openly answered it right in front of me.

A worried voice came from the other end, "Gerald, are you okay?" The voice was soft, warm and sweet.

Now, Gerald couldn't even be bothered to pretend in front of me. He responded with a gentle tone I hadn't heard in a long time, "Don't worry, I'm fine."

He still cared to save a shred of my dignity, ending the call after a brief conversation.

Then he waved his phone at me and said, "It's just a friend."

I remembered the first time I caught him late at night, locked in the bathroom, having a long conversation with her. I had screamed hysterically and tried to snatch his phone.

He had thrown me to the ground and kicked me in the stomach. The excruciating pain had overwhelmed me.

Afterward, when I occasionally saw him on the phone, I would coldly tell him, "Just avoid me a bit." And now, I faced it all with indifference.

What woman, upon learning her husband was openly cheating, could stand there, unaffected? It took countless tearful arguments and waves of hopelessness to reach this point of numbness.

"I'm going to sleep." Gerald pushed open the bedroom door and went inside.

I knew he was just changing locations to flirt and talk sweetly without restraint.

Sure enough, within minutes, hushed conversation drifted from the bedroom, reaching my ears. He was discussing his upcoming birthday.

"Birthday gift," "surprise," "can't wait to meet," "don't tell Jonah!" Key phrases reached me in fragments.

I was stunned. A horrifying thought took root in my mind, was Gerald's affair partner … are his best friend Jonah's mother? I remembered how he often visited Jonah's house under the pretense of checking in on him.

On the day of his birthday, Gerald dressed carefully in the early morning and told me he had an important meeting at the office.

He said he'd be busy all night and might even stay at the company until morning.

I nodded lightly, "Alright."

He didn't know that I had a tracking app on my phone linked to his location. At first, I installed it because he'd come home drunk every night and I worried he'd get into trouble.

A woman's wild imagination made me worry each night. Would he drink himself to death? Would he pass out drunk by the roadside and get run over? Or would he collapse somewhere, with no one there to take care of him?

But now, the tracker served a different purpose, to see which hotel he visited or which bar he was frequenting for his indulgent escapades.

Gerald didn't go to the office. His location had been moving around a shopping mall all morning.

Men generally don't spend time there unless they're accompanying a woman.

Aren't you all convinced that Gerald was a well-behaved, dutiful child? Today, I will show you his true colors.

I also wanted to see, after all these years, who this woman was that haunted his dreams and captivated him so deeply.

A crazy plan for revenge began forming in my mind. Before our divorce, I wanted to see him utterly ruined and condemned by everyone.

He had dragged me down into the abyss, so why should he remain untouched? I would pull him down too, make him feel the torment of absolute despair.

By around nine in the evening, his location stopped at the Hilton Hotel.

I made call after call, "Hello, Mom! Tonight is Gerald's birthday. I want to invite all of you to come and celebrate with him."

The first call was to Gerald's mother. Her reaction was both surprised and puzzled. Was this really the Clara who had been hospitalized just days ago, beaten so severely by her son that she miscarried, demanding a divorce?

Maybe out of fear that my emotions would erupt again, Gerald's mother agreed, albeit reluctantly. She said, "Clara, I'm glad you've come to terms with everything. Quarrels and scuffles are normal between couples. Seeing you gather everyone to celebrate his birthday tonight will surely make Gerald very happy."

I smiled, replying calmly, "Don't worry, Mom. I guarantee this birthday will be unforgettable for Gerald. Make sure to bring all the relatives along." Over the phone, his mother eagerly agreed.

I then called several of Gerald's friends and close buddies, including Jonah. If the woman Gerald was having an affair with really was Jonah's mother, Sandra, I couldn't wait to see the expression on Jonah's face when he found them together in bed.

Everyone from Gerald's social circle, whether they were close friends or mere acquaintances, if I could reach them, I invited them all.

To ruin someone's reputation, you don't need to let the entire world know. You only need to ensure he is utterly disgraced in his own circle.

Outside the Hilton Hotel, I spotted the giant cake Jonah had arranged. Everyone looked at me with complex expressions.

I caught a hint of guilt in Jonah's eyes, he couldn't even meet my gaze. This rich playboy had already been through four marriages and divorces, living a life of wild indulgence.

"Clara, aren't we supposed to be celebrating Gerald's birthday? Why did we end up at the Hilton Hotel?" They all asked curiously.

I smiled and explained, "It's because Gerald and I planned it this way. It's hard to clean up at home and given my physical condition …" I left the sentence hanging and everyone quickly understood, tactfully not asking further questions.

"Alright, alright, let's head upstairs now, so Gerald doesn't have to wait too long." Gerald's parents, a whole host of relatives, about a dozen people, all smiled and followed behind Jonah, who was pushing the three-tier cake. They couldn't wait to see the surprised expression on Gerald's face.

I didn't know the exact room number. So, I approached the front desk, asking for Gerald's room number, saying that I was there to celebrate my husband's birthday.

Normally, hotels don't disclose guests' information. But after I explained my purpose, with the impressive crowd behind me and the eye-catching massive cake,The receptionist believed me completely and gave me the room number.

"Gerald is going to be so happy tonight."

"I can't wait to see him so moved he cries tears of joy."

"He has always been such a sensible child. The last time we celebrated his birthday together was before his wedding." Everyone was chatting excitedly.

For the grand occasion of her son's birthday, Gerald's mother had dressed up in her finest, elegantly prepared for the event.

Every single person there took this birthday party very seriously. After all, the Clarke Family was wealthy and influential.

Following the room number provided by the hotel staff, the group of thirty or forty people crowded outside Gerald's room, taking up half of the hallway.

Just as I was about to swipe the key card to open the door, someone stopped me. "Wait!" Gerald's mother suddenly stopped me. Everyone turned to her in surprise.

With a wide smile, she pulled out her phone and started a live stream. "I want to share this unforgettable moment with everyone online!"

Others, not wanting to be outdone, raised seven or eight smartphones, aiming their live-streaming cameras at the door, ready to record what was about to unfold.

"When we go in, remember to shout 'Happy Birthday' all together!" Gerald's father reminded the group.

At that moment, I swiped open the door and led the crowd in. The whole group streamed in, a wave of people flooding into the luxurious suite.