He Betrayed Me, I Left with Our Little Girl

Chapter 3

Grace White's POV:

I slapped her hand away and snapped at Arthur as he stepped out of the pharmacy. "Why did you bring her here?"

"You're in such bad shape. Isn't it only right for her to help you?" Arthur scowled. "Can you stop being so irrationally jealous?"

I almost laughed. "You bring your fiancée along, so what does that make me? Your mistress? Or your kept woman?"

A mistress.

A kept woman.

For the past few years, that was exactly how people in Arthur's social circle had viewed me. They talked about me like that, not even bothering to lower their voices when I was around.

Every time I wanted to fight back, to teach those gossips a lesson, my rationality would hold me back at the very last second.

Arthur had said we couldn't make our relationship public.

He said I didn't have the family background and that his father would never approve of our marriage.

He told me to bear with it a little longer, that once he took full control of the company, we could stand proudly in front of everyone.

I had constantly accommodated him, enduring the nasty rumors, only to be rewarded not with a bright future, but with my lover's engagement party to another woman.

I still vividly remembered the scene from this morning. The grand, gilded hotel was bursting with festive joy, the ceiling covered in the blue balloons Arthur loved so much. And there he was, standing on the stage hand-in-hand with another woman, smiling warmly.

It was the exact scene we had once dreamed of.

Except now, the bride-to-be had been replaced.

I suddenly lost all desire to speak.

"Just leave," I heard my own voice say. "Go away, and don't come back. Don't look for me again."

Arthur was taken aback. Before he could speak, Clara cut in, "Isn't it a bit rude to talk to her like that?"

"What goes on between Arthur and me is none of your business," I said coldly.

Clara smiled, wrapping her arm around Arthur's. "Why shouldn't it be my business? I'm his fiancée now, and our wedding is next month. Why don't you come and have a drink with us then?"

My eyes locked onto her hand resting on Arthur's arm. Unintentionally, my gaze drifted past them, catching my reflection in the pharmacy's glass window.

I saw a woman with a bloody face, standing opposite a picture-perfect, glamorous couple.

Summoning every ounce of my remaining strength, I asked, "Arthur, I'm asking you one last time. Who do you choose—her or me?"