PURSUING MY DIVORCED WIFE

EMILIA’S POV “I won’t ask again, Emilia. Whose child is in that womb of yours?” I heard him ask again in an agitated voice, holding the pregnancy report in his hands, the vein in his forehead popping out, making me seethe in fear of what he might do “It…It’s yours,” I stammered, my voice trembling, then heard a murderous low laugh from him, and my legs immediately gave in as I stumbled to the ground “You expect me to believe that?” he stepped closer, towering over me. “I have never laid my hands on you, nor have I found you worthy of my urges, but you claim that child is mine.” My eyes widened as I stared at him, hopeless. He really doesn’t remember “Please, you have to believe me,” I pleaded, tears burning down my face “Since you won’t give me a name, you leave me no choice.” My heart stopped as I watched the bodyguards come closer “What are you doing … Let me go.” Two bodyguards held me on both sides as they lifted me from the ground and took me out. I struggled, but their grip was steel “Tristan, please…. The child is yours, I promise you. Please don’t do this,” I pleaded, but it all fell on deaf ears. The cold, lifeless look in his eyes as he watched them take me felt like a weight suffocating me. I instantly felt nauseous, and a wave of dizziness blacked out my vision as everything went dark I woke up to the harsh smell of antiseptic and blinding fluorescent lights; my eyes fought to adjust, but it only made my head ache more. I tried to make out my surroundings, but my breathing immediately became ragged as I realized where I was The door opened, and three men in surgical scrubs walked in “Ahh, Mrs. Blackwell, you are awake. We will be starting the procedure shortly, I promise it will be painless,” the lead doctor said smoothly. I remember he was an acquaintance of Tristan “What do you mean? What procedure? Where’s Tristan? Don’t touch me until Tristan gets here,” I panicked as I held my stomach. I couldn’t believe Tristan would allow them to do this to me “Mrs. Blackwell…” they hesitated, casting uneasy glances at themselves, a foreboding feeling settling in. Just then, Tristan walked in, and hope surged through me “Tristan, they want to take out our baby. Please stop them.” he didn’t even look at me. His eyes swept over the medical team with icy disdain, and his next words made my blood run cold “What are you all waiting for? I don’t fund this hospital for you all to move like snails. Hurry up and take that bastard child out of her” “Yes, Mr. Blackwell.” The doctors moved instantly, hardened by his command, probably threatened by Tristan’s presence, and knowing Tristan practically owned part of the hospital I scrambled back as I held my stomach tighter, but the doctors held me down. I looked over to Tristan, but he only glanced at me with those ever cold eyes. Three years of marriage and this is what it all amounted to. “Wait!” I yelled with the last strength in me. Tristan held his hands up, signaling the doctors to pause “Anything else, Emilia?” he coldly asked “Why won’t you just believe me?” I bit my lip until I tasted copper, trying to fight the tears threatening to come out. “You dare ask me why?” he asked with a devilish smirk on that godlike face of his, making him seem domineering. “You think I wasn’t going to find out how you sent Lara away?” “What?” I asked, confused, not understanding what he meant “She came back and told me everything, how you forced her away and had my grandmother trap me into marrying you. You cunning snake.” He said it with so much disgust that it made my eyes redden again, not able to hold back my tears anymore “Tristan, I don’t understand.” Nothing made sense. I remember Lara leaving Axel City three years ago, and Tristan suddenly agreed to marry me, so why is he saying I forced Lara away and made Old Madam Blackwell force him to marry me “Still trying to act dumb, Emilia? Alright, let’s see how you would react to this evidence” Tristan brought out a bunch of pictures from his inner suit pocket and threw them harshly at my face. My hands trembled as I reached out for one, and my eyes widened at its content. I checked the others, and they all contained suggestive content. One of the pictures showed me and me at a breakfast diner the day before she left Axel City, and the others showed me with a drunk man I had strangely encountered several weeks ago. He was obviously drugged and wanted to have his way with me, but luckily someone had intervened. The angle the picture was taken from made it seem like we were kissing. “Tristan, this is … I can explain…” “Save it. I had them authenticated, and they are all real, so you understand why every word you spit out sounds like a lie to me,” he sneered “Tristan, it’s not what it looks like, I promise,” I badly wanted to explain, but knowing he wasn’t going to believe me made me feel misunderstood and heartbroken. Of course he would believe the word of his first love over the woman he was forced to marry “You tried to trap me with another man’s child. How despicable, Emilia. I’m glad Lara helped me see through your tricks” “Lara sent you these pictures?” That explains a lot, it all made sense now. Lara had set me up and sent those pictures to Tristan, so of course he wasn’t going to believe me, and the fetus was too early for a DNA test. So was this it? Was I going to lose my baby this way when I had just found out about it? For three years I had swallowed every insult because I loved him, and he still couldn’t see through me. What happened to all my years of dedication and devotion to him? Just one word from Lara and none of it mattered anymore “So what if the baby turns out to be yours?” “And what makes you think I would want to have a baby with you? Where would that leave Lara?” Hearing him, I let out a low laugh, then a slightly louder one, then it became louder until my ribs started to hurt. I noticed the doctors exchanged alarmed looks, wondering if I had lost it. Even Tristan had creases on his forehead as he stared down at me, but I didn’t care anymore. I couldn’t believe it took me three years to get my answers. The answers were really clear, that even a three-year-old could figure it out. “Fine, Tristan, I will abort the child, but on one condition” Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “How dare you try to make a deal with me?” “You leave me no choice, Tristan!” I took a deep breath to calm my raging heart. I could feel my inner turmoil, my chest constricting. It really hurt, but I just had to do this. “Let’s get a divorce”