All Chapters of Rejected by my Husband: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

CHAPTER 101 THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW Reid didn’t follow her. Not this time. He watched Karline walk away from him, down the hallway, past the vending machines, past the double doors that led to the pediatric wing. Her shoulders were stiff, her footsteps quick, her face hidden from him. But she didn’t look back. Not once. And that… hurt in a way he didn’t expect. A quiet hurt. A deserved hurt. One that settled under his ribs and stayed there like something sharp. He stood there motionless, rooted to the hospital floor. He should talk to her. He should explain. He should tell her he knows. He knows Ethan is his. He knows what she’s been carrying alone. He knows the truth he should have known long ago. But the words lodged somewhere between his chest and throat. Reid wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready. He could see it in the stiff line of her shoulders. And Ethan… Ethan was the only thing that made sense right now. The only thing he could face. So he turned away. Walk

THIRD PERSON. REID’S POV. Reid didn’t remember leaving the park. He didn’t remember walking to the parking lot. He didn’t remember how he even reached the row of cars without collapsing. Everything felt thick, fogged, distant. His ears rang. His chest ached. His steps were uneven, like each one split him open a little more. He stood behind a black SUV and pressed both hands against it, head hanging low. His breath refused to stay steady. Karline’s voice kept replaying. Over and over. A knife with no handle. He isn’t yours, Reid. Remember? You refused him. You said he was a bastard. He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth until his jaw hurt. “I didn’t know,” he whispered. His voice cracked. “I didn’t know, Karline…” But that didn’t change anything. She had grabbed Ethan away from him like he was a threat. Like he was danger. Like he was nothing but a mistake. His chest twisted violently. His son. His boy. His little four year old who ran to him smiling, wh

THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW The next morning felt heavier than the night before. Reid didn’t sleep. Not even for a few minutes. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ethan’s tiny arms wrapped around him. He heard Karline’s voice ripping him apart. He felt the panic in her face. He felt the fear in her grip when she pulled their son away. Every time he blinked, he saw the truth he should have known four years ago. And every time he breathed, he remembered He had a son. A real son. A breathing, laughing, bright little boy who hugged him like he’d known him forever. At 6 in the morning, Reid was already dressed. At 6:20, he had signed papers. At 6:45, the realtor handed him the keys. By 7, he stood inside the small rented house, bare floors, white walls, nothing inside but dust and possibilities. He didn’t pick it because it was nice. He didn’t pick it because it was convenient. He picked it because it was five minutes from Ethan’s hospital. Seven,

KARLINE POINT OF VIEWI woke up to the sound of the heart monitor beeping softly.For a moment, I didn’t know where I was.Then I felt a warm little hand pressed against my stomach and saw Ethan curled beside me, his cheek resting against my arm, his lashes fanned out over skin that looked too pale under the fluorescent hospital lights.Right.Hospital.And Reid.And the truth.And the crying until my lungs felt bruised.I inhaled slowly.My entire face felt swollen, like I had cried myself into a fever. My eyes burned. My head throbbed. My thighs were stiff from sleeping awkwardly on the edge of the narrow bed so Ethan wouldn’t roll off.I kissed his forehead softly.He didn’t stir.He must have been exhausted.Mom was sitting on the couch, asleep with her head tilted back, a paper blanket half slipping off her lap. She looked older today. More tired. Because of me. Because of everything.I sat up carefully and brushed Ethan’s hair off his forehead again.His curls stuck to my finger

NATALIE POINT OF VIEW Margaret Carter did not walk inside my apartment. She entered like a queen steps into a room she already owns. Her heels clicked once, twice, three times on my floor and I swear each sound stabbed directly into my spine. Her assistant followed closely behind her, tablet in hand, and her bodyguard stood near the door like a silent boulder. I stood frozen, then jolted into motion, pretending to fix the sofa pillows that were absolutely fine two seconds ago. “Please, Mrs Carter, sit… sit anywhere, anywhere is fine,” I said, voice trembling like I was auditioning for a ghost movie. She sat down slowly on the couch, legs crossed, perfectly poised, perfectly calm, as if this wasn’t the most terrifying moment of my entire week. Her assistant sat beside her. Her bodyguard remained by the door. I swallowed hard… then too hard… and ended up choking on my own saliva. “Mrs… mrs… Carter,” I stammered. “Do you want something? Tea? Or coffee? I..I can make snacks also.