Going Back to His First Love

The night I found out I was pregnant, my husband stayed out to be with his first love. Without a second thought, I packed my bags, signed the divorce agreement, and walked away. Single moms could survive just fine nowadays, and splitting his massive fortune to raise the child alone sounded like the perfect, sweet life. Chapter 1 Last night, my medical report came back, confirming I was five weeks pregnant. I texted my husband immediately to share the life-changing news, but Laurent Maddox never replied, let alone came home. The next day, I saw photos of him on someone else's social media feed. He was sitting front and center beside another woman, wearing a rare, gentle smile. I recognized the woman as Serena Gallagher. She was Laurent's first love and a permanent fixture in his heart. The irony was endless. I had chased Laurent for four agonizing years, only succeeding in marrying him when Serena left to pursue her ballet dreams in Paris. Yet now, three years into our marriage, she came back on the night I confirmed my pregnancy. His heart flew straight back to her. It was almost funny. After all this time, even a stone should have warmed up in my hands. As I stared at the photo, a violent ache throbbed in my chest. It felt as though my heart had been ripped apart, thrown onto the ground, and callously stomped on. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and finally made up my mind. I chose not to blow up his phone with a desperate barrage of texts. Instead, I calmly tapped the "like" button on the post to acknowledge I had seen it, then called my lawyer to prepare a divorce agreement. While waiting for the paperwork to arrive, I began packing my things, but even by the time the lawyer showed up, Laurent still hadn't returned. Without hesitating, I signed my name on the dotted line, left the document on the dining table, and rolled my suitcase through the door. Knowing I would soon outgrow most of my current wardrobe due to the pregnancy, I chose to leave every piece of clothing behind. Stroking my still-flat belly, I began to ponder where to buy a new house to raise my baby. Fortunately, finance no longer restrained me. Laurent was loaded, and because we hadn't signed a prenuptial agreement, I was entitled to half of all the assets accumulated during our marriage. Over the last three years alone, his net worth had skyrocketed to five billion dollars, meaning that even ten percent of that fortune would allow me and my child to live comfortably for the rest of our days. I planned to wait until the divorce was finalized before breaking the news to my parents. With that thought, I dragged my suitcase over to Aronespire's largest five-star hotel to check in, intentionally swiping Laurent's credit card to cover the luxury suite. I was about to become a wealthy divorcée, and money was my least concern. It was only then that Laurent finally called me, likely having just arrived home to find the divorce agreement. "What games are you playing this time?" His voice cut through the receiver, dripping with his usual impatience mixed with a hint of exhaustion. "I haven't slept all night, and I don't have time for your drama." If this had happened just yesterday, I would have worried about why he pulled an all-nighter. My anger would have vanished instantly, and I would have rushed back to care for him. But after seeing that photo, I refused to be his doormat any longer. "I've already signed the divorce agreement and left it on the table," I replied with a chilling calmness. "Just sign your part and hand it over to the lawyer." Predictably, Laurent didn't believe for a second that I was serious. He simply said, "I have a meeting to attend. I'll have Hunter come pick you up." "Screw your meeting!" I ended the call, hanging up on him for the first time. Despite my outward defiance, my heart still throbbed with a suffocating ache that even the king-size bed of a $5,000-a-night luxury suite couldn't soothe. Tears continuously leaked from the corners of my eyes, soaking through the pillow as I stared blankly at the opulent ceiling, silently vowing to myself that this would be the last time I ever cried for Laurent. Perhaps it was the early stages of pregnancy making me lethargic, but once the crying spell passed, I drifted off and slept the day away. When I woke up, it was already five in the afternoon. I was starving. Chapter 2 My phone screen lit up with more than a dozen missed calls. "Laurent?" I checked the call log and found they were all from his younger brother, Hunter Maddox. I let out a bitter laugh, realizing I had overestimated my place in Laurent's heart. In our three years of marriage, he had never phoned me that many times. Right on cue, the phone began to ring again. The moment I swiped to answer, Hunter's abrasive voice came through the receiver. "Where are you?" he demanded. I've been looking for you all afternoon!" I rolled my eyes at his blatant lie. Given the timestamps, those 13 missed calls had all been made within a tight ten-minute window, meaning he hadn't spent a second searching for me before that. Laurent had likely ordered him to track me down in the morning, and Hunter, who had never shown me an ounce of respect, had only just remembered the chore now in the late afternoon. He was simply trying to cover his tracks with a frantic, last-minute phone bombardment. It was ironic, considering he was the very person who had posted that group photo this morning. "Don't bother looking for me," I said evenly, matching his hostility with cold indifference. "I've already signed the divorce agreement and left it on the table. Just tell Laurent to sign his part." Back when I was still trying to make my marriage work, I had gone out of my way to please everyone in Laurent's orbit. This was especially true for Hunter, a spoiled, hot-tempered brat whom I had always treated with gentle patience. I had never once argued with him, and I even routinely praised his rare good traits in front of the rest of the Maddox family. Yet despite my endless compliance, he had always treated me with malice. "That divorce threat is a thousand years old, Debbie," Hunter scoffed. "If you actually manage to leave Laurent, I'll become your damn dog!" He was even more certain than Laurent that I was bluffing. "Try a different species, Hunter," I countered icily. "Don't insult dogs." With that, I cut the line and blocked every member of the Maddox family. My parting insult must have struck a nerve, because Hunter immediately took to our massive shared group chat to blast the news to every wealthy socialite and heir we knew. Hunter: [Debbie is playing the divorce card again. I told her she'd never actually leave Laurent, and that if she did, I'd be her dog. [She had the nerve to tell me even dogs don't want me! I'm running the books now: I bet she will come crawling back home within three days.] The chat blew up instantly. They immediately began placing extravagant wagers on when I would return. Some bet a week, others half a month, and some a full month. They put up luxury cars, vintage wines, and even six-figure cash sums. I watched the notifications flood the screen, completely detached, until someone tagged me to ask for my timeline so they could fine-tune their bets. I knew most of the people in the group only through Laurent. Every one of them was a silver-spooned elite born into power and wealth. Spoiled, these kids had no concept of human decency, or perhaps they simply believed that a woman like me didn't warrant any. I wasn't a native of Aronespire; I had moved to the city purely for university, fell blindly in love with Laurent, and ultimately stayed because of marriage. Under Laurent's sharp ambition, the Maddox family had pulled so far ahead of the city's old money over the past few years that they were in a league of their own, cementing them as the wealthiest family in Aronespire. Yet, despite legally being his wife, I had never truly fit into the upper-crust social circle that revolved around them. I had always been an invisible outsider, and now that I was finally the center of attention, it was only as the punchline of a cruel joke. But I was dead serious about leaving Laurent. Refusing to waste my breath arguing with any of them, I quietly exited the group chat and began deleting their contacts one by one. By the time I finished purging my phone, my friends list had shrunk drastically, leaving me with only a handful of people: the ones I'd been close with since before university and a couple of casual friends I'd made locally. I had lived in Aronespire for seven long years, wasting my youth on a man who didn't care. All I had to show for it was a college diploma and nothing else. Chapter 3 After graduation, I jumped straight into marriage with Laurent. The Maddox family was traditional and despised the idea of their daughter-in-law showing up in the workforce. They demanded I stay home to be a conventional wife and mother. I didn't mind the restriction at all. In fact, I thought it was a luxury that Laurent was willing to let me live as a freeloader. After breaking free from his thumb, I looked around and realized the devastating cost of that lifestyle. I had never built a social circle of my own, but that did nothing to dampen my appetite. I ordered a Michelin-starred dinner from hotel room service and ate every bite until my stomach was bloated. Bored out of my mind and needing to digest, I wandered over to a nearby park, rubbing my full stomach with one hand while propping up my lower back with the other. I never expected that fate would be cruel enough to throw me right into the path of Serena and Laurent. Yet there they were, walking side by side down the trail, chatting and laughing. "Debbie? Hey, long time no see!" Serena exclaimed, cutting herself off mid-sentence with Laurent. She waved enthusiastically, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. A saccharine smile broke across her face as she added, "You've put on a little weight! Your face looks so much softer now. It's so cute." If this had been the old me, hearing her passive-aggressive comment about my body would have left me mortified. Compared to Serena, whose years of professional ballet training had left her with a perfectly toned, curvy silhouette, I looked like a featureless cylinder. I wasn't exactly fat, but I certainly had squishy bits all over. Now, however, those shallow insecurities couldn't touch me. I had a baby to grow, and if I didn't eat enough, my child would starve. When I didn't respond, Serena let out a knowing chuckle. She pointed at my posture, focusing heavily on how I was rubbing my stomach and supporting my spine. "Debbie, are you pregnant?" she asked, testing the waters. I was indeed pregnant, though just one month along. My body wasn't showing yet, and I was just suffering from a food coma. Before I could answer, Laurent frowned and said dismissively, "No, she just overate." A wave of bewilderment washed over me. Hadn't I texted him the medical report the night before? Yet here he was, looking unbothered and clueless. I quickly swallowed my shock. We were getting divorced anyway, and as far as I was concerned, this child belonged entirely to me. "Right, I just overate. I'm not pregnant," I echoed smoothly, then gave them a dismissive wave. "Now, if you two would kindly move aside, I'd like to get back to my walk." The trail wasn't even narrow, but the two of them were standing in the center, blocking my path. If they wanted to canoodle and make out, they were welcome to do so. I just couldn't understand why they had to trap me here like I was being punished. "You're out here walking all by yourself?" Serena asked, covering her mouth in mock surprise while refusing to budge an inch. I bit back a sarcastic retort. My husband was currently acting as her personal escort, so what else was I supposed to do? Tag along behind them like a lost puppy? "How about we keep you company?" Serena offered seamlessly. It was a masterful piece of manipulation. By phrasing it that way, she grouped Laurent into her camp, establishing the two of them as a singular "we," while completely alienating me. She conveniently forgot that Laurent and I were a married couple. What a phony bitch! "No thanks. I don't feel like being a third wheel," I said evenly. "Take your time walking, and if you go just a little further up the path, there's the Vienna International Hotel. Super convenient for you two." In the past, whenever Serena subtly rubbed her "special connection" with Laurent in my face, I would swallow my humiliation in silence. I wasn't stupid; I knew that if I fought back or made a scene, Laurent would simply label me a jealous shrew and drift even further into her arms. But now that I no longer wanted the man, her psychological warfare failed to spark even an ember of jealousy in my chest. So, I stated my thoughts bluntly, even kindly pointing them in the direction they should go next. My blunt insinuation soured Laurent's mood. He sulked, "Debbie, I came out here to find you and take you home. Running into Serena on the way was a complete coincidence. "She was only trying to be kind, and you repaid her concern with nasty suspicion. That's ridiculous." His words stepped on my landmine. The absurdity of his defense tore a cynical laugh from my throat as I turned on him, retorting loudly, "Are you kidding me?" Chapter 4 The contrast in how he addressed us was glaring. He used my full name with icy detachment, yet he spoke to Serena with a familiar warmth that anyone could decode in an instant. Serena's sudden concern was nothing more than a performance for his benefit, and Laurent bought every second of it. We were love rivals who had only met a handful of times; there was no way she'd actually care about me. "Debbie!" Laurent snapped, his eyes flickering with anger. He was clearly annoyed that I, who had always been so obedient, was suddenly standing my ground and blowing up at him. Out of habit, my muscles tensed on autopilot, triggering a familiar wave of panic that urged me to apologize. I hated that muscle memory. Shaking off the urge to cave, I hardened my expression. "I've signed the divorce agreement and left it on the table," I stated impatiently, sick of rehashing the same argument. "If you don't return it signed within a week, I'm filing for a contested divorce." To drive the point home, I pulled out my phone, opened the camera app, and aimed it at them, snapping several photos of them standing side by side. Serena's jaw tightened with panic. "Debbie, what are you doing?" "A contested divorce is a hassle in court," I replied blandly, adjusting my angle. "I have to provide the judge with proof that our marriage is irretrievably broken. So please, move a little closer to him." I held up the phone, explaining my strategy while directing her movements. Serena was stunned, glancing awkwardly between Laurent and me. Yet, she subconsciously leaned into Laurent's space, angling herself closer to him for the shot. I gladly captured every frame. "Stop messing around!" Laurent lunged forward and yanked the phone out of my hand, trying to open the gallery to wipe the images. The screen had gone dark, and he glowered at me. "Passcode." "It's my birthday," I answered coolly, not even bothering to fight him for the device. The photos had already been uploaded to the cloud, with a backup waiting on my tablet. He could do whatever he wanted with the phone; it wouldn't change a thing. But his face went rigid. He couldn't unlock the screen because he had no clue when my birthday was. A bitter wave of clarity washed over me. It turned out that every birthday gift I had received over our three years of marriage had been chosen and organized entirely by his assistant. Laurent had merely handed them over after a calendar reminder told him it was my special day. I clicked my tongue and snatched my phone back from his frozen grip. "I'm divorcing you, Laurent, and nothing you do is going to change that," I said firmly. "In the meantime, you'd better get Hunter under control before he gambles away everything he owns." I was such a great person. Even now, I was trying to help them bond. "What's wrong with Hunter?" Laurent pressed. I simply turned and walked away. Serena's voice trailed behind me as she held him back. "I heard Hunter started a betting pool in the group chat, wagering on when Debbie is going to come crawling back to you," she explained. "The stakes are insane. Tons of people are putting money down." Laurent frowned. "That's absurd." I glanced over my shoulder and saw him pull out his phone. He barked into the receiver, "Where are you?" Just like that, his anger shifted onto Hunter. He didn't seem to grasp that I was the one who had been thoroughly humiliated by that stupid wager. He was so focused on teaching his reckless brother a lesson that he didn't spare a second to apologize to me, even though I was standing right in front of him. By the time I got back to my hotel room and finished washing up, an unfamiliar number called. I rejected it without a second thought, but a moment later, the same number sent me a text. Having just received a brutal lashing from Laurent, Hunter took his rage out on me. The text was a stream of insults and contempt, blaming me for blowing his cover. It was the same old story, and Laurent hadn't made Hunter apologize to me. He could command Hunter to stop gambling, whoring, and street racing, yet he could never be bothered to teach Hunter how to treat me with basic respect. Hunter and I had been college classmates once. When we first met all those years ago, he hadn't been like this, and neither had Laurent.