He Chose Her Over Me—Even as I Lay Dying

On my birthday, a car accident pinned me in the wreckage with my husband Julian’s first love, Elena. My physician husband raced to the scene, prioritizing her rescue. Trapped in the mangled seat, bloodied and begging, I heard his chilling reply, “She’s pregnant—two lives are at stake. Can’t you grasp that?” His heroic save, captured by a bystander and splashed online, drew a flood of praise. His circle mocked me, waving the video in my face, sneering, “Lila, you’re not that petty, right?” Fresh off the operating table, clutching my miscarriage notice, I smiled faintly, “No, I won’t. This marriage—and Julian—can go to her.”

Chapter 1: The Agony Awakens

As anesthesia faded, pain crashed over me like a storm. Pale and shaking in the hospital bed, my chest throbbed as if stabbed. A video looped on my phone: Julian rescuing Elena amid accident debris, their eyes locking in a tender, cinematic gaze. Comments gushed, “Hero saves beauty—pure romance!” “Their love is locked tight!” If he weren’t my husband, if I weren’t the forgotten victim, I might’ve cheered. Reliving it, tears betrayed me. It was my birthday—Julian had promised a celebration. Then Elena cooed, “Julian, my stomach hurts,” and he sped off with her, triggering the crash. Her fright was minor; I slammed into the door, bleeding heavily, losing consciousness. Pleading, I got his cold, “Elena’s pregnant—be sensible.” Blinded by blood, I watched him tend to her, his voice soft with fear for her. Gasoline fumes overwhelmed me, and I blacked out. I survived, but at a cost. Touching my aching abdomen, I smirked, shutting off the video.

Awakened by midnight pain, I sought painkillers and met Julian in the corridor, still in his disheveled white coat. “Were you with Elena?” I asked. His face blank, he snapped, “No time for your nonsense,” reeking of her gardenia perfume. Emotionless, I said, “Let’s divorce.” He scoffed, “Over a missed birthday?” Assuming my silence confirmed it, he added, “Elena’s pregnancy’s tough—I’m just helping.” His phone rang—her call softened him instantly. “Busy lately, I’ll make it up,” he muttered, rushing off. Once, he’d soothe me with gifts after choosing her; now, my hospital gown went unnoticed, his guilt absent.

Chapter 2: The Illusion of Love

Few would believe Julian pursued me first. Our blind date sparked over shared interests, deepened by our parents’ old friendship, leading to marriage. I knew of Elena, his seven-year love, but trusted his maturity. Her pregnant return flipped everything. Calm Julian vanished—during my fever, he stargazed with her; on our anniversary, he fixed her plumbing, leaving me solo. Complaints branded me jealous. Now, I’m done. A WeChat message from my research director revived an overseas study offer I’d declined for Julian. Calling, I secured it, booking a divorce online. “I’ll be ready,” I assured.

Chapter 3: A Quiet Escape

Next afternoon, exhausted, I slept in the guest room, woken by Julian’s insistent knock. “Lila, why no discharge call?” he demanded, eyes accusing. “No need,” I yawned. “A car accident’s trivial?” he rebuked. Calmly, I smiled, “I’m fine, thanks.” Elena’s voice chimed, “Lila, you’re back!” in a camisole, acting hostess. Julian mumbled, “Her place leaked—I couldn’t leave her.” “Pregnant women need care,” I nodded. Stunned, he grabbed my hand, “You’re not mad?” “Friends help,” I said, withdrawing. Elena clutched her belly, “My stomach hurts!” Julian glared, “Petty with her?” and stormed off. Unfazed, I ate a late snack, spotting her post: leaning on Julian, captioning, “Best dad ever.” I replied, “Congrats.”

Chapter 4: The Confrontation

Days later, Julian avoided home. I drafted divorce papers, heading for a check-up where I met him. “Elena’s post was a joke—apologize,” he ordered. Memories hit—blood, the induced labor form. Dragged to her room, her crowd sneered. Julian peeled mangoes for her—a task he’d denied me. “Jealous, Lila?” she teased. I caught his tossed mango, ignoring it. “Take them,” she offered, feigning pity. Leaving, he blocked me, “Why no anger?” “You’re friends,” I said. He pressed, “Ignore me?” The doctor entered, recognizing me, “Miss Chen, any bleeding?” Elena gasped, “A disease?” The doctor corrected her, then chided Julian, “Your wife miscarried—how can you yell?”

Chapter 5: The Truth Unleashed

Silence gripped the room. “Pregnant? Miscarried? Why not tell me?” Julian rasped. “No need,” I said. He raged, “That was my child!” I sneered, “Crocodile tears? You chose Elena—why blame me?” She cooed, “As compensation, be my baby’s godmother.” Enraged, I slapped her. “Insult my child again, and it won’t be a slap,” I warned, dumping mangoes on Julian. “I’m allergic—stop pretending,” I laughed, leaving the divorce papers.

Chapter 6: Reluctant Shadows

Julian tagged along to my appointment, refusing divorce. “I’m your husband,” he insisted. Post-checkup, he paid and drove me, citing worry. An old patient gushed, “Dr. Lu, you cared so for your pregnant wife!” Julian panicked, claiming me as his wife. The lady scorned him, “Cheating beast!” I let him drive, but he vanished to Elena. Home, he pleaded, “Why not wait?” “You were late,” I said, spotting her lipstick.

Chapter 7: The Breaking Point

“You went to her,” I accused. “She fainted—I was worried,” he defended. I raged, listing his betrayals—rain-soaked abandonment, riot fear, the crash. Slapping him, I cried, “You ignored my hemorrhage, my cardiac arrest, my hysterectomy!” Devastated, he begged, “Don’t divorce.” I demanded he sign, retreating.

Chapter 8: Unyielding Pursuit

He hovered, bringing roses, suspended from work over scandal. “Make it up?” I offered, “Sign the papers.” He pleaded, “Give me a chance.” “Can you return my child?” I countered.

Chapter 9: Healing Through Loss

Nightmares of a crying child haunted me. Rationalizing the loss, I donated to temples, yet self-loathing persisted. Imagining a saved child, I found Julian’s signed papers, fleeing abroad. Half a year later, gossip reached me: Elena’s miscarriage from a rich woman’s attack left her bedridden; Julian, dismissed, faded into obscurity. I focused on my studies, leaving the past behind.