After My Husband Chose the Faker Over Me

The night air carried a chill that didn't match the warmth I'd expected from our third anniversary celebration. I stood in the shadows of our apartment rooftop garden, my hand instinctively moving to my slightly rounded belly—our baby, our future. The champagne flutes I'd brought up remained forgotten in my hands as I watched my husband Maddox and his childhood friend Elodie standing far too close by the edge, their silhouettes illuminated by the city lights below.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Maddox," Elodie's voice trembled with practiced vulnerability. "The rumors Arielle has been spreading about me... they're destroying everything I've worked for."

My breath caught in my throat. Rumors? I hadn't spoken to anyone about Elodie in weeks.

"What exactly is she saying?" Maddox's voice was tender, protective in a way it hadn't been with me lately.

"That I don't deserve my success, that I'm sleeping my way through the industry." A perfectly timed sob escaped her. "She's always been jealous of our friendship, but this is beyond cruel."

I stepped forward, the glasses clinking in my hands. "That's not true."

They both turned, Maddox's face hardening while Elodie's eyes widened with theatrical surprise before she shrank against my husband's side.

"Arielle." My name sounded like an accusation on his lips. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear these lies." I set the glasses down, my hands trembling. "I haven't spread any rumors about you, Elodie. But I know you've been going through my design files."

"See what I mean?" Elodie whispered to Maddox, her fingers clutching his sleeve. "She can't stand that I might succeed on my own."

"I found the backup files you didn't manage to delete," I continued, stepping closer. "My original sketches for the competition pieces—the ones you're presenting tomorrow as your own."

Maddox moved between us, his broad shoulders blocking Elodie from my view. "That's enough, Arielle. You've been obsessing over this competition for months, and now you can't handle that Elodie might win?"

"She's going to win with MY designs!" My voice rose despite my efforts to stay calm. "The diamond constellation pendant? The sunrise gradient technique? Those were in my private sketchbook!"

"The one you conveniently can't find?" Maddox's eyes narrowed. "Stop this. It's our anniversary, and you're acting crazy."

"Crazy?" The word stung worse than a slap. I pressed my hand against my belly, trying to calm myself for our baby's sake. "Check my cloud backup. The timestamp on my designs predates anything she's submitted."

Elodie stepped around Maddox, tears streaming perfectly down her cheeks. "I can't believe you'd do this to me. After everything we've been through together."

"We?" I laughed bitterly. "You've been trying to sabotage my marriage from day one."

"That's IT!" Maddox's voice thundered across the rooftop. "Apologize to her, Arielle. Now."

"I will not apologize for telling the truth." I moved toward Elodie, my finger pointing accusingly. "She's manipulating you, can't you see that?"

What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. As I approached, Maddox's hands connected with my shoulders, a forceful push meant to keep me from Elodie. But the strength behind it—the anger—sent me stumbling backward. My heel caught on the garden tile. I felt myself falling, arms flailing for balance that wouldn't come.

The last thing I saw was Maddox's face—not reaching for me, but turning to check if Elodie was okay.

Then darkness.

I woke to the steady beep of hospital monitors and a hollow ache deeper than any physical pain. My hand instinctively moved to my belly, finding only flatness where life had been growing.

"The baby?" I whispered to no one.

"I'm so sorry, Ari." Mae's voice came from beside me, her warm hand covering mine. Her eyes were red-rimmed, telling me what I already knew before the doctor confirmed it. My baby was gone.

Mae's face twisted with anger and grief. "That bastard hasn't even been here. He's at that stupid competition with her."

Before I could process this new betrayal, Mae held up her phone. "You need to see this."

On the screen was a livestream of the jewelry design competition. But what made my blood run cold were the photos circulating in the comments—compromising images of me, doctored to suggest I'd been trading sexual favors for opportunities. And there, accepting the first-place trophy with a demure smile, stood Elodie—wearing MY pendant design around her neck.

"She stole everything," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "My designs. My reputation. And now..." I couldn't finish the sentence, my hand pressing against my empty womb.

The door opened, and Maddox stood there, looking exhausted but not broken like I was. Not grieving our child like I was.

"You're awake," he said, as if I'd merely been napping.

Mae stood, her small frame vibrating with fury. "I'll be right outside." She squeezed my hand before leaving us alone.

I didn't waste time with pleasantries. "She plagiarized my work." I reached for my phone, pulling up the cloud folder with my original designs. "Here's the proof. Timestamps, development sketches, everything."

Maddox barely glanced at the screen. "Arielle, stop. Haven't you done enough?"

"Done enough?" My voice cracked. "I LOST OUR BABY!"

"Because you were acting irrationally!" He ran his hands through his hair. "Attacking Elodie, making wild accusations—"

"Wild?" I thrust the phone at him again. "LOOK at the evidence!"

He pushed the phone away. "All I see is your jealousy destroying everything. Elodie would never do this. I've known her my entire life."

"And I'm your WIFE!" The monitors beeped faster as my heart rate climbed. "I was carrying your child!"

"A wife who spreads vicious rumors about an innocent woman." His eyes were cold, unfamiliar. "Maybe this proves what my mother said all along—you were never Stone material."

In that moment, something inside me shattered completely. The love I'd clung to, the hope that he might choose me—it died as surely as our child had.

"Get out," I whispered.

"Arielle—"

"GET OUT!" I screamed, and this time, he listened.