After My Miscarriage He Chose Her Over Our Marriage

When my cat disappeared, I noticed Mckenzie Meyer posting several pictures of a cat on Instagram. The pristine white fur with distinctive markings—it was unmistakably my Whiskers. I tried to get my cat back, but Jackson stepped in and shoved me aside.

"It's just a cat. Is it worth this much trouble?" he scoffed.

As I hit the column, blood began to flow. Lying on the ambulance stretcher, I realized I was truly done with Jackson.

Inside the ambulance, I lay there, feeling lifeless, with the bleeding still unstoppable. Jackson's face was clouded with guilt as he kept apologizing, "Rebecca, it's all my fault. I didn't think it would end up like this."

A sharp pain tore through my abdomen, and I shivered. But no physical pain compared to the ache in my heart.

At the hospital, I received the inevitable news: the baby couldn't be saved. After the procedure, I touched my now-flat stomach, tears silently streaming down my face. I had waited five years for this child. After we got married, I struggled to conceive. The doctors told me my ovary was underdeveloped, making natural conception difficult. They suggested in vitro fertilization.

I had endured over a hundred injections, cried endless tears, and finally, this child was mine. But now, it was all gone.

Jackson approached with a bowl of stew, trying to feed me. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Rebecca, you just had surgery. You're weak. Please eat something," he insisted, trying to press the spoon to my lips.

I knocked the spoon away, crying out, "Leave me alone! I don't want to eat!"

The stew spilled on Jackson, causing him to step back. He set the bowl down on the nightstand, his expression barely hiding his anger.

His voice was low, "Rebecca, don't overreact."

"I'm grieving for the baby too. Are you still blaming me for what happened?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Did this man seriously think he wasn't to blame?

"Jackson, you gave my cat to Mckenzie and pushed me into that pillar, causing the miscarriage. Who else should I blame?" My words were soaked in sorrow, my heart ready to break.

Jackson's expression turned cold. He scoffed, "Rebecca, can't you be rational?"

"I was worried that Whiskers might affect your pregnancy, so I let Mckenzie look after her temporarily. Was it right to try and take the cat back?"

Did he forget that Whiskers had been with me for ten years and was practically family?

I was filled with rage, my body shaking uncontrollably. "Did you ask my permission before giving her away? What right did you have to hand my cat over to Mckenzie? And who said being pregnant means I can't have a cat?"

"I was just being careful, and besides, Mckenzie loves animals. She was perfect to look after Whiskers. You're just being unreasonable."

Looking at him, stubbornly making excuses, my heart felt as if it were submerged in icy water. I suddenly realized that this life was no longer worth it.

I dropped my head, not wanting to argue anymore.

Just then, the door to the hospital room swung open, and Mckenzie slipped inside.

"Rebecca, I'm so sorry about the baby. It's all my fault. I was the one who suggested to Jackson that I take care of Whiskers. Please don't blame him."