Blurb：
When Lena Sinclair suffers a threatened miscarriage, bleeding in Grant Sheridan's car, he mistakes it for her period and callously abandons her. Returning home, she finds her childhood rival Samantha Tate lounging in her marital bed, while Grant dotes on her with brown sugar peach gum soup. As Lena quietly signs up for a three-year overseas project, Grant remains oblivious, prioritizing Samantha's comfort over his wife's pain. Will Lena finally break free from Grant's emotional neglect and Samantha's manipulation? Dive into this intense story of betrayal, heartbreak, and a woman's reclaiming of her life.
Content：
When I had a threatened miscarriage, I bled all over the seat of Grant Sheridan’s car.He glanced at the stain with visible disgust and immediately pushed me out of the car.
“You couldn’t prepare for your period in advance? How unlucky,” he snapped.
Later that night, just after I arrived home, he casually tossed a pair of lace panties at me.
“Samantha stained these during her period. Go wash them.”
I opened my phone and saw a post from his childhood sweetheart on her social media.
[When my period starts, my silly brother gets even more anxious than I do.]
The photo showed Grant in the kitchen, attentively making brown sugar peach gum soup.
Without hesitation, I called my boss.
“Give me the overseas project. I’m ready to take it.”
——
“…Are you sure?” he asked. “If you go, you’ll be gone for at least three years.”
“I’m sure,” I replied.
Right after the call, Grant walked out of the kitchen.
He’s a great cook, though he rarely bothers to cook unless it's for her.
“Who were you on the phone with?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. I went straight to the bedroom—only to find Samantha Tate lying on our wedding bed.
She looked up and gave me a smug smile.
“Lena Sinclair, your bed is so soft. It really helps with my cramps.”
“You don’t mind, right?”
Grant followed right behind, not even glancing at me.
“Let Samantha rest here tonight. You can sleep in another room.”
I didn’t argue. I picked up my work laptop and quietly walked out.
Behind me, her saccharine voice rang out:
“Grant, the peach gum soup you made tastes amazing.”
He replied in a warm, doting tone, “If you like it, have some more.”
That very morning, I had suffered a threatened miscarriage. My blood soaked his car seat.
But he assumed I was just on my period, got irritated, and left me on the roadside.
I was shivering, panicking, and unable to hail a cab in the pouring rain.
By the time I made it to the hospital, the doctor shook his head regretfully.
“If you had come sooner, we might have been able to save the baby.”
Back home, I walked into the study and found the approval documents for the overseas project in my inbox. I signed them without hesitation.
Meanwhile, Grant went into the bathroom. When he didn’t see the usual warm bath I prepared for him each night, he finally remembered me.
He noticed I looked pale and was working in the study.
He started to walk in, maybe to say something.
But before he could speak, Samantha called for him.
He paused, smiled, and turned back to her room.
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The End