ABANDONED EX WIFE? NOW FATED TO YOUR ARCH NEMESIS

10:00 p.m. sharp. My phone beeped with a message notification. Don’t leave now!! I frowned at the text, curiosity twisting in my chest. Who sent this? An uneasy feeling crept over me as I stared at the screen. Ignoring it, I packed my scrubs into my locker. Tonight was important. I had finally decided to tell Vincent I was pregnant. After three years of our arranged marriage, Vincent had never loved me the way I loved him. Yet, I still hoped. The strange message lingered in my mind. Why wasn’t I allowed to leave now? My heart pounded with restless thoughts. Bang! The hospital doors swung open. A man in a tailored black suit rushed in, carrying a woman stained with blood. I froze instantly as recognition hit me. The man was my husband. Vincent Moreau. “What is he doing here?” I whispered. Panic surged through me. I quickly grabbed the surgical mask from my pocket. I can’t let Vincent know I work here. The woman was placed on a stretcher. Her injuries didn’t seem life-threatening, but she was bleeding badly enough to cause alarm. “We need to undress her to assess the wound, sir,” one of the nurses said. My trembling hands moved toward the patient as I tried to focus. Then I saw her face. Iris. My breath caught in my throat. What happened to her? Shock rooted me to the spot. I instinctively stepped back, but the movement caught Vincent’s attention. “Don’t just stand there!” he barked. “Take her to the private ward, idiots! Nothing must happen to my wife!” The words slammed into me like a knife. Wife? My ears rang. Why was he calling my sister his wife? What the hell just happened? My chest tightened painfully. I couldn’t think straight anymore. Questions crashed through my mind faster than I could process them. “Isabella, take her to the ICU.” My colleague’s voice sounded distant. But I was trapped inside the ruins of my marriage. “Isabella!” “Yes…” I snapped back to reality, wiping the sweat forming on my forehead. The corridor suddenly felt suffocating. “Um… excuse me,” I muttered before hurrying toward the restroom and slamming the door shut behind me. I gripped the sink tightly and splashed water on my face, trying to steady my breathing. A tear slipped down my cheek. Then another. And another. “She always gets the love and affection from everyone,” I whispered bitterly at my reflection. “Always taking what was supposed to be mine.” Iris had always been everyone’s favorite. While me? The unwanted wife. The imperfect daughter. The so-called infertile woman. A broken laugh escaped my lips as fresh tears poured down my face. Those cruel words echoed endlessly in my head. Beep! My back pocket vibrated. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone, expecting a call. Instead, another anonymous voicemail appeared on the screen. Fear tightened around my chest, but curiosity was stronger. What’s inside the voicemail? My finger hovered over the message as dread crawled beneath my skin. Whoever was sending these messages already knew the truth. Vincent had never chosen me. And he never would.