THE WIFE HE REGRETTED LOSING

THE WOMAN HE CHOSE

The words just hung there, sharp as a knife.

Sign it.

Lola Hart felt frozen, like she couldn’t make her body move. Rain hammered the hospital window so hard it sounded angry, echoing through the quiet room. Every drop felt like time running out — the last seconds of the life she used to know.

Her hands shook as she stared at the divorce papers Daniel shoved her way. Three years. Three years together, and now it all boiled down to a few pieces of paper. The ink looked too dark. Somehow, too final.

Lola looked up slowly, but her gaze skipped past Daniel, drawn to the hospital bed behind him — the bed that belonged to another woman now.

Vanessa.

That name hit her with a bitter clarity, echoing inside her head. Vanessa lounged in Daniel’s hospital bed like she belonged there, maybe like she'd always belonged in Lola’s place. Her hair — long and black — lay perfectly against the pillow, framing a face that felt almost unreal: delicate, soft, fragile. But Lola never trusted fragile things. Especially the kind that smiled like they knew something you didn’t.

Vanessa’s hand hovered protectively over her stomach, tracing slow circles as if guarding the life growing inside her. Daniel’s child.

Lola felt pain twist deep in her chest. Her own hand moved to her stomach — flat now, empty, cold. Just hours ago, there was a heartbeat. A future. She’d pictured Daniel cradling their baby, imagined how he'd look: joyful, proud, loving.

But now? He was feeding soup to someone else.

Silence stretched between them, almost unbearable. Vanessa went and broke it first.

“Oh my,” she said, all gentle and worried, shifting beneath the blanket. “I didn’t realize you were Daniel’s wife.” The words sounded innocent, almost sweet, and Lola nearly laughed. Almost. But the look in Vanessa’s eyes wasn’t innocent at all — it was something harder, colder, something calculating.

Lola crossed her arms tightly, the hospital gown too thin, leaving her feeling exposed. Her body was still weak from the blood she’d lost earlier that morning. Legs shaky. She wouldn’t let them see it.

“You didn’t realize?” Lola asked, voice quiet.

Vanessa smiled, small and embarrassed. “Well… Daniel didn’t say much about you.” The words came soft, almost apologetic, but they landed hard. Lola’s chest clenched. Daniel didn’t talk about her. That made it easier, didn’t it? Pretending she didn’t exist. Replacing her.

Vanessa tilted her head. “You look pale,” she said, kindly. “I heard you weren’t feeling well earlier.”

That’s one way to say it, Lola thought, curling her fingers into fists. One way to describe losing a baby.

Before Lola could answer, Daniel stepped in. “That’s enough, Vanessa," he said, calm but firm.

Vanessa blinked. “I was just being polite,” she replied softly.

Daniel sighed — rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Lola.” Her name sounded suddenly formal from him. “Let’s not make this more complicated.”

Complicated.

Lola stared at him, her heart pounding. “Complicated?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You want me to sign divorce papers with your pregnant mistress in your hospital bed, and you think things are complicated?”

Daniel’s jaw tightened. “Lower your voice.”

It was a sharp order — the same tone he used when one of his employees stepped out of line. Lola let out a hollow laugh. “You’re worried about my voice?” She touched her stomach again, briefly. “I just lost our baby this morning, Daniel. And you’re worried about me causing a scene?”

Daniel’s expression hardened. “You’re making a scene.”

She stared at him and felt something inside c***k. Three years. Three years loving him, believing she mattered. Now he watched her like an inconvenience. Like the problem.

Behind him, Vanessa fidgeted, looking uncomfortable, but not with guilt. Just tense. Her hand rested on her bump again. “Daniel,” she said quietly, “I think she’s upsetting the baby.”

Lola’s head snapped toward Vanessa.

Calmly, Vanessa met her gaze. “My doctor warned me about stress,” she added gently.

The message was clear: You are the problem.

Daniel turned to Vanessa, his face instantly softer. “I’ll handle it,” he promised.

Handle it. Like she was some mess to clean up.

He stepped closer, blocking out Vanessa. “Let’s not drag this out," he said quietly, coldly. "Vanessa is carrying my child."

It hit her like a blow. Lola already knew, but hearing him say it made it sting even worse.

Her throat tightened as she swallowed hard. “So that’s it?” she asked.

He stayed silent. That told her everything.

Lola’s eyes dropped, then lifted again, burning with a question. “How long?”

Daniel frowned. “How long what?”

Her voice steadied. “How long has this been going on?”

Outside, the storm just kept pounding on the windows. Daniel looked away, toward Vanessa. She watched him, waiting.

Then he looked back at Lola, his face blank. “You don’t need to know that.”

She pressed her nails into her palms. “I do.” Her voice held strong now. The truth mattered, even if it destroyed her. “Tell me how long you’ve been sleeping with her while I was still your wife.”

Silence. Vanessa’s gaze dropped — but Lola caught the hint of a smile on her lips.

Daniel exhaled slowly, like he was about to drop some ugly truth. His eyes met Lola’s and his voice was so cold it chilled the air.

“Long enough.”