He Defended Her, I Married His Billionaire Rival

Over the past year of my marriage, I had been assaulted thirty-eight times by my husband's deranged ex-wife. The final straw came when she drenched me in vinegar, convinced it was acid. When I tried to call the police, my husband stopped me. "She's having an episode and thinks we're still married," he pleaded. "It's not real acid anyway, so just let it go. Go wash it off, and you'll be fine. Also... Leo still hasn't accepted you. Maybe I should move in with them for a while. Just bear with it a little longer, okay?" I looked at him, and whatever I'd still been holding onto finally disappeared. He had never truly let go of his ex-wife, and I would always be an outsider in this family. Looking down at the pregnancy test results I had just received, I made an appointment for an abortion without another moment of hesitation. "Let's get a divorce," I said. "I won't stand in the way of you getting back together with your ex-wife." Ethan Cross's head snapped up. "What did you just say?" "I said I want a divorce. You can go back to being Serena Vance's husband and Leo Cross's wonderful father. I'm out." "Tessa Hart, please don't say things you don't mean." "I mean every word," I interrupted him. "I'm pregnant." Ethan froze, but after a few seconds, a troubled look crossed his face. "This baby..." he began hesitantly. I let out a sudden, bitter laugh. "I know you don't want it. You only want your ex-wife's son." "That's not it. It's just that the timing isn't right..." he stammered. Having heard enough of his excuses, I couldn't hold back my shouts anymore. "I've had enough, Ethan!" I screamed. "I am sick of being slapped by your ex-wife, being called a wicked woman by your son, and still having to smile and pretend it's all fine! I'm tired of being branded as the other woman on the internet by your ex-wife and enduring online harassment while I have to hide like a coward and stay silent!" I took a breathless pause before continuing. "I've also had enough of you taking them camping and hiking just to take care of them, while I have to sit at home waiting for you to return! I am done always coming in second. I'm done with your guilt, your sense of responsibility, and your so-called difficulties turning into knives driven straight into my heart!" Clutching the test results, I spun around and headed for the bedroom. "Tessa!" Ethan called after me, a hint of panic finally creeping into his voice. "Stop right there. We need to talk about this." I slammed the bedroom door shut behind me. For a long time, there was absolute silence from the living room. Burying my face in the blankets, I broke down into loud, gut-wrenching sobs. My mind drifted back to half a year ago when Ethan rested his hands on my shoulders and told me, "Once Leo gets a bit more used to things, maybe we can consider having a baby. When the time comes, we can have a therapist step in early to help him prepare mentally." He had sounded so sincere then, and a warm feeling had spread through my chest as I thought he was making long-term plans for our future. Only now did I realize that it hadn't been a plan at all. It was a project assessment. And my baby was nothing more than a project that required mental preparation, risk evaluation, and timing assessments before it could even be allowed to exist. What I thought would be the ultimate proof of our love was merely a tool to stabilize his family in his eyes. It was ridiculous how I still held onto the fantasy that his son would eventually accept me, and that once we had a child, we would all live happily together as a family. When I got out of bed the next morning and opened the bedroom door, Ethan was standing right outside. With heavy dark circles under his eyes and a rumpled shirt, it was obvious he hadn't slept a wink all night. Seeing me, he immediately stood up straighter. "Tessa." "I'm going out," I said evenly. "I'll drive you," Ethan offered almost instantly, quickly adding, "I checked. St. Anne's Hospital has outpatient clinics this morning. I know the director there, so I can arrange for the best doctor..." He spoke with such a casual tone, as if we were discussing what to have for breakfast. My heart felt like it was being brutally crushed by an invisible hand, the pain catching my breath. "I'm going by myself." Ethan looked taken aback before furrowing his brows. "You can't go alone. You'll need to rest and be kept under observation after the procedure." I cut him off, raising my eyes to meet his. "Do you think I agreed to go to the hospital because I was listening to you?" Ethan stared at me in silence. "I'm not getting rid of this baby just because you told me to," I said, enunciating every word. "I'm doing it because I refuse to bring my child into a home where they will always be second best. I don't want my child to grow up constantly asking why their father always takes care of everyone else before taking care of them." The color gradually drained from Ethan's face. Grabbing my packed purse, I headed straight for the door. He chased after me and grabbed my wrist. "Tessa, I know you're mad at me, but please just let me go with you." "And what exactly would you do if you came with me?" I turned back to look at him, my eyes hollow. "Accompany me to the hospital and sit outside the operating room waiting for me? And when I come out, are you going to give me a hug and tell me I did a good job and that I was so brave?" A bitter laugh escaped my lips, bringing tears to my eyes. "I know you're a crisis negotiator, Ethan, but I'm not one of your cases right now. I'm not some hostage you need to talk down." I shook off his grip and pulled the door open. "Tessa." Ethan's voice was terribly hoarse. "If you really want this baby, we can keep it."