Chapter 2
In my eight months of pregnancy, Pete never cooked a single meal for me I was always the one serving him.
Yet as soon as Mary returned to the country, he was up early making her bird’s nest soup.
Not seeing me lower my head, Mary pouted dissatisfied, continuing her act of kindness in an affected voice, “Pete, don’t worry about me. Hurry and comfort Angel look how awful she looks. She must be feeling terrible after impulsively terminating the pregnancy…”
Pete was already furious about the terminated pregnancy how could he possibly comfort me?
Sure enough, all traces of concern vanished from his face, replaced by pure venom, “Such a vicious woman, terminating the pregnancy without a word – I’wouldn’t feel sorry even if she died!”
He was right- even my death couldn’t earn his sympathy.
He had clearly seen me fall among the crowd in the surveillance footage, yet he neither cared why I had terminated the pregnancy, nor worried about my condition, let alone thought to see the baby one last time.
“Would you like to see him?”
Pete roared at me with reddened eyes, “During New Year’s, you want me to look at a dead infant that you killed? Isn’t that bad luck?”
I nodded at the empty air as the soul collector carried away the disappointed infant.
Watching them leave, my gaze fell on Pete’s neck. He nervously buttoned his collar to hide the telling love marks.
Yet Mary deliberately turned her diagnosis paper toward me, showing “Minor corpus luteum rupture.”
Their night must have been passionate indeed, to land them in the hospital on New Year’s Day.
At this thought, my stomach churned unexpectedly.
Who knew a walking corpse could still feel nauseous!
Seeing my worsening expression, Pete lifted me into the wheelchair like he was granting a favor, not missing the chance to mock, “You brought this on yourself!”
“Marrying you was the worst luck of eight lifetimes. Just get discharged and go home–stop embarrassing me in public!”
He forcefully processed my discharge papers.
When the nurse tried to intervene on my behalf, Pete dismissed her carelessly, “Someone like her doesn’t deserve to
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Screw You, Ext My New Life’s Hotter Than Your Money!
Chapter 2
waste medical resources!”
“It’s fine, please process my discharge.”
I didn’t want to trouble the young nurse, and besides, maternity beds were scarce – a walking corpse like me had no
need for one.
Pete had expected me to make a scene, and my docile compliance left him visibly unsettled.
When he habitually opened the passenger door for me, I walked to the back seat instead.
Pete frowned at me, confused, “Don’t you get carsick?“.
Mary also tried to persuade me kindly, “Angel, Pete only wanted you discharged because home is better than any hospital, and staying here during New Year’s would be so pitiful.
We can take care of you at home. He’s harsh outside but soft inside, don’t be angry with him…”
Pete’s temper flared again. He slammed the back door shut, refusing to let me in, “How dare you be angry with me? Mary, don’t waste words on such an ungrateful person! Let’s go home!”
He protectively helped Mary into the passenger seat and drove away.
I indifferently called a taxi.
When I arrived home, Pete was already in the kitchen making bird’s nest soup for Mary.
The man who always claimed gentlemen should stay away from the kitchen was now precisely timing how many
minutes to cook and when to add the red dates.
So he wasn’t incapable of cooking as he claimed – he just never wanted to make the effort for me.
‘Angel, when Pete finishes cooking, I’ll secretly share some with you. Just don’t throw tantrums and make him
angry!”
‘Such a good man – you should treasure him!”
Hearing this, Pete coldly ordered, “Angel, Mary’s been craving mac and cheese since yesterday. Make it.”
They say a man is most attractive when focused on his work.
Pete’s devoted attention to making bird’s nest soup for Mary had her eyes sparkling with admiration, giving her the confidence to provoke me.
Since Mary’s return, he’d grown increasingly comfortable ordering me around.
Remembering my recent miscarriage, his tone softened, “You can just teach me how…”
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Screw You, Ex! My New Life’s Hotter Than Your Money!
33.9%
Chapter 2
“I’ll do it.”
This would be the last meal I’d cook for him – consider it a farewell.
Pete seemed about to speak, but ultimately couldn’t resist Mary’s “I’m so bored.”
The gasps from the study merged rhythmically with my chopping sounds.
Perhaps mindful of my presence, they didn’t carry on for long.
Mary deliberately rolled up her sleeves to help me, revealing a tattoo.
The tattoo looked familiar – Pete had a matching one in an intimate place.
How laughable that he’d claimed it was tattooed for me.
“Angel, Pete loves me desperately, while you’re only fit to be our servant.”
As she spoke, her knife fell on my hand, dark red blood gushing out, dripping onto the cheese.
Mary screamed, deliberately cutting her own hand.
“Angel, why would you do this to me?”
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