My Husband Chose Her Dogs Over Me

Chapter 2

Everything happened in a flash. Leanna suddenly grabbed the fruit knife from the table and sliced it across her wrist.

Franco scrambled to stop her, but in his panic, the blade slashed deep into my thigh. Blood poured from the wound—yet he didn’t even glance my way.

Too busy cradling a now-dramatically faint Leanna, he murmured reassurances to her, completely oblivious to the injury he'd just given me.

Amid the chaos, the black medical case beside the bed toppled over, cracking open just enough for a trickle of blood-tinged water to seep out.

Leanna let out a shrill scream and burrowed deeper into Franco’s arms. Without hesitation, he kicked the box aside in disgust.

But inside that box were the tiny bodies of our twins—our babies, who never got the chance to open their eyes and see this cruel world.

Tears streamed down my face as I ignored the searing pain in my leg, crawling desperately toward the box, arms outstretched to shield it.

My frantic effort only made Franco angrier.

With another harsh kick, he sent the box skidding across the floor before coldly summoning hospital staff to "get rid of it."

"No! Please—don’t!"

My sobs wracked my entire body, as if my heart were being ripped apart. Clutching the box to my chest, I trembled violently.

Franco hesitated, then frowned. "Mara… are you having some kind of postpartum breakdown?"

He didn’t wait for an answer. Just turned and walked away, Leanna still cradled in his arms, leaving nothing but the hollow echo of my cries in that sterile, heartless room.

Much later, he finally returned.

This time, he carried a postpartum meal, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I overreacted earlier," he admitted, as if that explained everything. "But you shouldn’t have lied to me while I was operating on Maple."

He sighed, like this was just some silly misunderstanding. "Leanna only fell into depression because she fell for me. I feel responsible for her—but she’s just a sister to me. All those things I said? Just to comfort her. You get it, right? You’ve always been the understanding one."

Always the same.

If Leanna was upset, he’d lash out at me or Alec just to make her smile. Then he’d toss us some half-hearted apology, a cheap treat, and expect everything to be fine.

My gaze dropped to the lipstick smudge on his shirt hem. I gave him a hollow, numb smile.

It was over. All I felt was a cold, bitter void.

But he mistook my silence for forgiveness.

Brightening, he changed the subject. "So? What about the babies? Both boys? Two girls? One of each?"

He waved a nurse over, grinning. "Bring them in. I want to see my kids."

The nurse hesitated, glancing between us. "Dr. Davidson… your children, they—"

Then his phone rang.

Of course.

Leanna.

He answered instantly.

"Franco…" she whimpered. "Maple just threw up some milk… is she dying?"

"Don’t worry, Leanna, I’m on my way!"

He hung up and bolted from the room so fast he left his coat behind.

The nurse shouted after him, furious. "Dr. Davidson! Your wife just had a C-section!"

But Franco was already gone.

I grabbed her arm before she could chase him.

"I don’t need his pity," I whispered. "Just… take me to see my son."

Alec was waiting.

On the eighteenth floor.

In the morgue.

Gritting my teeth against the pain of my fresh incision, I staggered toward the cold, sterile farewell room.

There, under the harsh fluorescent lights, lay my baby boy.

Alec looked so peaceful.

Tears splashed onto my hands as I lifted his tiny body into my arms.

"My sweet, silly Alec… did it hurt? I’m so sorry, Mommy couldn’t protect you."

"I miss you so much. You were always so good, so gentle. How could you leave me behind?"

"Why didn’t you take me with you? Are you scared, all alone out there?"

"It should’ve been me. I picked the wrong father for you. This is all my fault."

I sobbed until my lungs burned, until my vision blurred. But Alec would never smile at me again. Never hug me. Never wipe my tears with his little...