I Saved Him, Now I’ll Leave Him

Chapter 3

Ralph and I once had a child together.

When I was five months pregnant, the three of us went on a trip to a resort, and we were caught in an unexpected fire.

When both Ralph and Sophie lost consciousness, I pushed past my own limits to carry them one by one out to the open clearing, where we waited for rescue.

But I ended up collapsing unconscious from sheer exhaustion.

When I woke up, the fire had been put out, but I had lost our child in the accident.

Sophia hugged me and cried as she apologized.

Ralph's eyes were also red, his voice trembling as he said, "Claire, we will have other children someday. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Back then, he was so heartbroken. But now, he says, that our child was just unlucky to die so young.

That I do not deserve to be a mother.

Perhaps realizing that his words had gone too far, Ralph's gaze grew complicated.

In the end, he sighed softly and said, "I know you have sacrificed a great deal for me. Just stay and be Mrs. Pierce in peace. Sophie will never take your place as long as you behave yourself, and don't bully her and her child."

I almost let out a cold sneer, and enunciated each word clearly, "Ralph, our engagement is off. I will never marry you."

He paused mid-step, and scoffed. "You're just playing these games to get a reaction out of me, aren't you? You just woke up, you should rest more instead of plotting and scheming."

After Ralph left, the ward fell quiet again.

My mother sighed, and tucked the blanket around me properly. "Don't blame Ralph. Three years ago, the doctors said the chances of you waking up were very slim. It was Ralph who kept holding on and never gave up on you. He got you the best medical support available."

My gaze fell into the distance, and I drifted slightly out of focus.

Once, we were the perfect couple in everyone's eyes. No matter how busy he was with work, he would always make time to go home and cook three meals a day for me. No matter how late he got home, he would take care of all the housework himself.

He always said, "My little princess, you came with me to live a good life. How could I ever let you suffer even the slightest grievance?"

But later on, the look he gave me turned icy cold. "You saved my life, I even abandoned Sophie to marry you. What more do you want from me?! Sophie loves me more than you ever did! For the three years you were in a coma, she stayed by my side the whole time! When I worked overtime late into the night, she made late-night snacks and brought them to the office for me, and she even kept our home perfectly organized! Sophie was your best friend, and you drove her to her death. If there is a next life, I will never love you even a little bit again."

He had been the one who insisted on spoiling me endlessly, treating me like his precious princess, yet he was also the one who later turned around and resented me for not being considerate enough, for not knowing how to take care of him.

It turns out that once someone stops loving you, everything you do becomes wrong.

My recovery went smoothly, and the doctor finally cleared me to go home and rest.

But when I returned, my old room was no longer mine. The walls had been repainted pink, the furniture replaced with gaudy, princess-style decor, and a large portrait of Sophia hung right above the headboard.

My mother forced a strained smile. "Sophie said your master bedroom gets the best sunlight, so she converted it for herself. She’s been living here so long she’s already used to it. Changing everything again would be too much trouble. You can just stay in the second bedroom. After all, who would have expected someone in a coma for three years to ever wake up?"

I only smiled faintly. "I don’t want a room someone else has lived in."

All my belongings had been moved to the basement, now buried under a thick layer of dust.

My eyes drifted across the forgotten items until they landed on a crib in the corner, and stopped.

It was custom-made when I was still pregnant.

Ralph had flown overseas himself just to order it.

Like an excited new father, he had searched for parenting guides online, buying piles of tiny baby clothes and toys without even knowing what he was doing.

After I lost the baby in that fire accident, I fell into a deep depression.

He took a break from all his work and took me abroad for three months, trying to help me heal.

He even donated generously to the church, built a private chapel wing for our child, and prayed daily, hoping the child would find peace sooner.

But now, all those promises had rotted away with time.

Even the crib stood forgotten in the corner, coated in dust.