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One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband
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A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"
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One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 9
When I heard Lily's name, I finally lifted my head. Looking at the man in front of me, nearing thirty, using his inability to judge someone as an excuse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of absurdity that I had sacrificed my youth for a man like this. "Mark, listen to yourself. Don't you find it ridiculous? If you really feel sorry, you'll make Lily pay the price! "You saw how she threw our son out of the window, didn't you? Are you still protecting her?" Sure enough, Mark froze. After a long pause, he hesitatingly said, "Our son wasn't hurt. Lily was just being a bit willful..." "And what about me?" The feelings I thought I had already buried rushed back like a flood breaking through a dam. "What about me, Mark? Does my pain not count? Does it not hurt? "Because of Lily, I've been hospitalized twice in half a month, and my wounds have torn twice! Just because I married you and had a child, does that mean I don't deserve to be taken seriously? "Mark, I'm flesh and blo
One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 8
"Alcohol can cause irreversible damage to a baby's brain," the doctor said gravely. "You should really learn more about parenting," the doctor added, and I saw the self-reproach wash over Mark's face. "The alcohol has already been absorbed by the baby. Take this prescription to get the medicine." Mark took the paper from the doctor without a word. "Cammy, stay with the baby here. Let me handle the physical stuff." I didn't want to look at him, so I just nodded silently. Mark went to get the medicine, and the room was left with just me and Lily. She stopped pretending to be the innocent girl and turned cold, her face darkening. "Cammy, you're really like a glue, always sticking to Mark. Don't you have any shame?" "I'm Mark's legal wife. You should know who has no shame here," I replied. My words seemed to hit a nerve. Her eyes turned vicious, and she took slow, deliberate steps toward me. "What are you going to do? You think I'm afraid of you?" I thought Lily might b
One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 7
The dishes arrived one by one, each exquisitely plated and delicately arranged. Mark picked up his knife and fork, slicing the steak into neat pieces before placing them onto Lily's plate. "Mark," Lily said softly, her voice laced with nostalgia. "Ever since I went abroad, no one's cut my steak for me like this." Mark glanced at me briefly but offered no reply to her suggestive remark. I paid no attention to their little exchange, more interested in finishing this meal and finally broaching the topic of divorce. Lily, however, turned her gaze to my hands and let out a laugh, the kind that's meant to sting. "Cammy, why are you holding your knife and fork like that? Don't you know how important table manners are with French cuisine? When you eat, you're supposed to put the knife down and only use the fork." Her words dripped with mockery, aiming to paint me as uncultured, as if she was expecting me to flush with embarrassment. But I didn't bite. I calmly continued eating,
One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 6
I moved into the apartment next to Stacy's and hired a nanny to help with the baby. Before our son was born, Mark had promised me the best postpartum care center, along with a top-tier nanny to ease my recovery. But after the birth, he changed his tune. "Only a mother's hands-on care can build a real bond with her baby," he'd said. Then came the excuses about the company's financial strain and how hiring a nanny was unnecessary. Yet he didn't hesitate to complain when my late-night feedings caused hair loss, leaving strands tangled in the sheets. He resented how slow my recovery was, mentioned the lingering smell of blood on me, and said it killed his interest. Watching his tenderness toward Lily, I realized that loving someone and marrying someone were two entirely different things. Now, at last, I could sleep through the night. Free from endless housework, I found the time to work with Stacy on preparing the divorce papers. Just as we finalized everything, Mark, who had
One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 5
With Stacy helping to care for the baby, I finally had a moment to check my phone for any missed messages. Unlocking the screen, I found nothing but Stacy's concerned inquiries and an endless stream of chatter from Mark's so-called "brotherhood" group chat. The group had added me only after I married him, while Lily had already been part of it long before. That's when I learned about her—a childhood playmate of his, someone he grew up with. Predictably, the messages were filled with concern for Lily. "How's our precious Lily doing? Mark, you really messed up this time—how could you not take better care of her?" "We all get it, though. It's not easy when a certain someone is so petty." I scrolled past the words, my expression cold, and kept reading. "You're spoiling Lily again, aren't you?" "That chicken soup looks so good, I'm drooling!" "You two are outrageous!" My chest tightened at the mention of chicken soup. Scrolling further, I found the source—a video Lily ha
One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 4
When I opened my eyes again, I was greeted by the stark whiteness of a hospital ceiling and the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant. "Ms. Winfrey, you're awake. How are you feeling?" The nurse leaned in, checking my pupils and then measuring my blood pressure. "Your wound tore open, causing severe bleeding," she said gently. "Fortunately, you're out of danger after treatment, but you need to rest. Absolutely no more strenuous movements." "She's right, Cammy," came Mark's voice from beside me. I turned my head and saw him standing there, as if he'd been by my side the whole time. So, he hadn't left me entirely. He had brought me to the hospital after all. Mark reached out, tucking the blanket around me, and then adjusted the bed so I was sitting up. Next, he produced a thermos, carefully pouring out a bowl of chicken soup and setting it before me. "I made this myself," he said with a faint smile. "You should drink some to regain your strength. You're a mother now, but you'r
One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 3
Lily hadn't left. She seemed to have just finished a shower, her damp hair draped casually over her shoulders. She was wearing my old nightgown from before I got pregnant, the fabric stretched tight over her ample figure. When she saw me, she let out a startled gasp, as though I were an unwelcome intruder in her home. "Oh, you're back, Cammy," she said with feigned surprise, her voice laced with artificial sweetness. "I just got back from abroad. My own place isn't ready yet, and Mark kindly offered to let me stay here. You don't mind, do you?" Even as she spoke politely, her eyes ignored the open neckline of my nursing clothes, and she walked right up to me, her presence brimming with unspoken provocation. Her lips, painted in an exaggerated pout, curved upward as she purred, "Mark, Cammy looks great even after pregnancy. She must have really taken good care of herself." But in the corner of her gaze, the one Mark couldn't see, mockery gleamed. She stared pointedly at my sag
One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 2
"Cammy, what's with the attitude?" Mark's voice was sharp and reprimanding I glanced at him coldly, my voice calm. "I'm going to feed the baby first." Mark froze, his mouth opening slightly as if to speak, but no words came out. I didn't bother with him—what was the point? We were already heading for a divorce. My only concern now was my baby boy. Pushing open the door to the nursery, I saw my son lying in his tiny bed, mouth open, crying so hard he was nearly choking. He must have been starving. My chest tightened, and I hurried over to pick him up. Mark followed me in, his expression turning awkward. The smell of alcohol on him hit me like a slap, and anger surged to my temples. "Mark, you've stuffed yourself full, but it's been four hours. The formula is right there in the cabinet—couldn't you feed him even once?" "Cammy, don't talk to me like some shrew!" He shot back indignantly. "Everyone knows breast milk is best for babies. You ran off and left him—how do you st
One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband Chapter 1
I turned around without a word and walked out the door, shutting all the shouting and chaos firmly behind me. Pulling out my phone, I sent a message to my lawyer friend: [Stacy, I want a divorce.] Stacy's reply came quickly: [What? Why? You just had a baby.] Cammy: [He doesn't deserve to be my baby's father.] It was already late autumn, and the wind howled as it whipped against my thin frame. Pain rippled through my abdomen where the incision was still raw, and the tearing pain below flared with every step. The streets were desolate, with no sign of life except me standing under a flickering streetlamp in nothing but my flimsy pajamas. Four hours passed since I left the house, and not a single call from Mark. I thought about finding a cheap motel to stay the night, but then my thoughts drifted to my baby—he was still so small, and he needed to be fed every two hours. With a sigh, I turned around and retraced my steps, my slippers dragging on the pavement as I made my wa
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Chapter 1
I turned around without a word and walked out the door, shutting all the shouting and chaos firmly behind me. Pulling out my phone, I sent a message to my lawyer friend: [Stacy, I want a divorce.] Stacy's reply came quickly: [What? Why? You just had a baby.] Cammy: [He doesn't deserve to be my baby's father.] It was already late autumn, and the wind howled as it whipped against my thin frame. Pain rippled through my abdomen where the incision was still raw, and the tearing pain below flared with every step. The streets were desolate, with no sign of life except me standing under a flickering streetlamp in nothing but my flimsy pajamas. Four hours passed since I left the house, and not a single call from Mark. I thought about finding a cheap motel to stay the night, but then my thoughts drifted to my baby—he was still so small, and he needed to be fed every two hours. With a sigh, I turned around and retraced my steps, my slippers dragging on the pavement as I made my wa...
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