His Other Priority
Savannah Cox was my husband's first love. When she got divorced, my husband, Alex Stewart, was the lawyer who handled her case. Then he moved her into our home after getting rid of Mochi, my cat, because she was allergic to cats.
Because she lost a necklace, he forced a pregnant me to jump into an icy pool to retrieve it.
By the time I lost our baby and ended up in the hospital, Alex was posting Savannah's prenatal checkup report—the first post he'd made all year.
"The cherry blossoms are blooming at Cherrywood Park. She arrived with spring."
I quietly liked the post, feeling unwell and numb with grief as I spent the day in silence.
Alex only looked at me with disgust, a cruel sneer creeping onto his lips.
"Autumn, people like you deserve to lose their children. If you love kids so much, why don't you go die with the baby?"
What he didn't know was that I was already dying.