01
On the day I was due to give birth, I got into a severe car accident while driving to the hospital alone.
My husband, an emergency room doctor, rushed off to save his “true love,” who had slit her wrists in an apparent suicide attempt.
I didn’t call him.
I watched as my car burst into flames, consumed by the inferno after the crash.
In my past life, one desperate call from me had caused him to abandon his beloved, Lily James, in her time of need.
He saved me and our unborn child, but Lily bled out alone, her body not discovered until three days later.
Though my husband swore he didn’t blame me and claimed it was his choice to make, the shadow of her death hung over us. He even insisted on throwing me a grand wedding.
But the night before the ceremony, he knocked me out and dragged me to Lily’s home.
There, in the very bathtub where she had died, he mutilated me, carving me piece by piece, and even cutting our child from my womb.
His eyes glowed red with rage as he stared at my bloodied body.
“Isn’t it just a car crash? You didn’t die! But Lily did because of you! Now, I’ll make sure you feel the pain she went through that day!”
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the accident.
A deafening crash, my car flipped, and I was thrown into a pool of blood, my body aching.
The tram that hit me spewed thick smoke as the collision sent it spinning.
I couldn’t believe it–I had been reborn at this moment.
Realizing what had happened, I gathered my strength to drag half my body out of the driver’s seat.
My lower half was still trapped.
People stood far off, too scared of an imminent explosion to approach.
My cries for help were drowned out by the surrounding chaos.
Seeing the futility of calling out to the bystanders, I shakily dialed 911.
The stabbing pain in my abdomen worsened, and cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
The operator on the other end was one of my husband’s coworkers.
I’d met her a few times.
As soon as she heard my voice, her tone changed, growing serious.
“Claire, Dr. Hayes is busy today. He made it clear before he left that if you couldn’t reach him, you might try calling the office. I know what you’re going to ask, but I can’t tell you where he is. Please don’t waste emergency resources. Just hang up.”
When she moved to disconnect the call, panic surged through me.
As I struggled, a pile of makeup Lily had left in the passenger–side compartment fell on me.
Ignoring it, I pleaded, “Don’t hang up! You misunderstood–I’m not looking for Dr. Hayes. I was just in a car accident, right outside your hospital. The car could explode at any moment. Could you please send help-”
But she cut me off with a sharp retort, “Stop acting, Claire! Dr. Hayes isn’t here. Even if the ambulance comes, you won’t see him. Please stop causing trouble. This line is for emergencies. You’re taking up valuable resources!”
She continued, her irritation clear, “He’s not ignoring you on purpose. There’s a life at stake where he is. You’re pregnant, so just focus on giving birth. Don’t overthink it. He’ll explain everything once he’s done.”
The call ended.
Despair washed over me, my tears hitting the ground.
I hadn’t expected him to be so ruthless, to leave me with no way out.
In the past, whenever Lily called him away with various excuses, I had sometimes phoned the office, but never lied or wasted resources.
Seven years together, and this was how he saw me in the end.
No wonder, in my past life, he had killed me without hesitation for her.
As the temperature inside the car climbed, nearing the point of no return, I knew I didn’t have time to wallow in regret.
I took several deep breaths, my gaze landing on my swollen belly.
I had to get out.
I clawed my way through the shattered window, shards of glass slicing into my palms.
<To save his ex, my husband left pregnant me in an exploding car
Each inch I moved drained more of my strength.
By the time I was half outside, I collapsed, gasping for air, skin blistering from the heat.
In just two minutes, the smoke had thickened, enveloping the car.
Onlookers finally began to gather, with some k
Soon, hurried footsteps approached.
souls shouting for help, asking if any nearby doctors could assist.
To my surprise, the head of my husband’s department appeared.
He quickly assessed the situation and organized some bystanders to pull me from the wreckage.
As soon as I was moved to safety, the car exploded, consumed by flames.
The department head expertly examined my injuries.
A small crowd had formed around us, all asking questions at once.
“How could her family let a pregnant woman drive alone? Unbelievable!”
“Is she okay? I called for an ambulance, but the line was busy. When I finally got through, they accused me of making it up and hung up before I could even mention the accident! What kind of hospital hires these people?”
“Young lady, you shouldn’t be out on your own in your condition! How far along are you? Let me call your husband.”
The concerned comments from strangers, who had been too afraid to approach before, brought tears to my eyes.
Even these people, complete strangers, cared more about me than my own husband–who had wanted me and our child dead to save the woman who had once abandoned him.
The notorious “seven–year itch” was no lie.
Everything happening after my rebirth seemed like a cruel reminder of my blindness and stupidity.
None of the onlookers noticed how the department head’s expression grew darker as they spoke.
After finishing his check, he immediately called the emergency room.
As soon as the call connected, he shouted furiously, “Send an ambulance to the intersection right now! Did no one tell you there was a crash here? If I hadn’t been on my way to work, this injured woman would be dead by now! How many times do I have to call before you do your job? Who gave you the right to act like this?”
“Do you understand how important the emergency department is? If you can’t do your job, you can leave!”
Five minutes later, I was loaded into an ambulance.
At that moment, my phone rang.
The department head, kind as always, answered it for me and held it to my ear.
The furious voice of my husband, Dr. Hayes, filled the line.
My body involuntarily shuddered at the sound of his
Dice.
“Did you call my department again? How long are you going to keep this up? Didn’t I tell you I was busy today? Do you have to bother me now? The baby’s almost here, and look at yourself!”
“I’m already busy enough at work! Can’t you stop calling me over every little thing? Can you not live without me? Women everywhere get pregnant, and none of them act like you!”
“Do you know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there for Lily today? She almost
come home when I’m done. Stop harassing me!”
her wrists again! Can’t you show some understanding? I’ll
His voice was laced with irritation, underscored by Lily’s soft, tearful sobs in the background.
After his rant, he hung up without waiting for a response, without even asking if I was okay.
The image of his cold, indifferent face from the moment he had tortured me in my past life flashed in my mind.
Tears spilled down my cheeks as my breath hitched in broken sobs.
The sharp pain in my abdomen reminded me of my current reality.
Blood, mixed with amniotic fluid, spread beneath me.
But even this agony paled in comparison to the pain of being slowly cut to pieces by him in my past life.
As I was rushed into the ER, the coworker who had dismissed my call caught sight of my pale face on the stretcher.
Her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly apologized, explaining she had thought I’d made up the car accident to get Dr. Hayes’s attention.
The department head, noticing something was wrong, asked about my identity.
When he learned I was Dr. Hayes’s wife of seven years, his face darkened with rage.
<To save his ex, my husband left pregnant me in an exploding car
He immediately called Dr. Hayes, putting the call on speaker so I could hear.
“Dr. Hayes, where are you right now? Your wife has been in an accident and needs surgery. Get here immediately!”
I had expected some hesitation, but Dr. Hayes replied coldly, “Chief? Did Claire find you to cause more trouble? Don’t believe a word she says. She’s losing her mind! She fights with me every day. I’m a doctor–I can’t just let someone die because she’s jealous!”
“If I’d been a minute later, Lily would have bled out! I’ll explain everything when I get home, but I’m not coming right now. Claire can wait.”
The department head’s face grew red with anger, veins bulging on his forehead.
But just as he was about to respond, Lily’s soft, weak voice came through the line.
“Is it Claire calling again? Are you leaving me? I’ll be alone again, won’t I? But, of course, your baby’s almost here. I should’ve let you go a long time ago. This is all my fault.”
It was as if Dr. Hayes couldn’t bear to hear her words. He hung up abruptly.
A violent contraction ripped through me, and the world went black.
The department head rushed me into the operating room.
As I lost consciousness, memories of my past life came flooding back.
The first time the accident had happened, I’d called Dr. Hayes for help. He had been on his way to see Lily, but upon hearing I’d been in an accident, he had immediately turned around and rushed to save me. He dragged my blood–soaked body out of the car and carried me into the emergency room. He didn’t rest until I was out of danger.
But the stress had triggered premature labor, and our baby wasn’t born on time. After he brought me home, he hurried to Lily’s apartment, only to find her dead in the bathtub, wrists slashed to the bone.
Without saying a word, he quietly arranged for her funeral.
Two days later, he returned to me, calm and composed, as if nothing had happened. He broke the news of Lily’s death with unsettling coldness.
I looked at him, guilt twisting in my chest, but he simply shook his head and told me not to blame myself. He said the tragedy had taught him how unpredictable life could be, and he couldn’t wait to give me the wedding I deserved.
I looked into his familiar eyes and chose to believe him.
But the night before the wedding, he knocked me unconscious and dragged me to Lily’s apartment. He tied my limbs and curled my body into the bathtub where Lily had died.
The look in his eyes had none of the warmth I once knew. It was replaced with a crimson rage, a bitterness that seemed unshakable. His face contorted
with the madness of a man who had lost the love of his life.
The knife in his hand gleamed with a cold light as he spoke, his voice low and steady.
“It was just a car crash. You didn’t die. But Lily did.”
“Do you have any idea how deep her wounds were? How much blood she lost that day?”
“She lay here, in this exact position. Blood poured down her legs. I’ve studied medicine for years, and I never knew a human body could hold so much blood. So much that I couldn’t see anything else.”
“Don’t worry, though. You’ll know soon enough.”
He placed Lily’s portrait in front of the bathtub. Then, in front of her picture, he exacted his revenge.
The moment the knife pierced my flesh, the pain was so intense I nearly passed out. No matter
Blow after blow, the knife came down on me and our unborn child.
The moment our baby’s body touched the outside world, it stopped breathing.
I thought that would be the end of his revenge for Lily.
But it was only the beginning.
much I cried or begged, he remained unmoved.
He continued to stab us, the madness in his eyes growing with every strike. His whispers were like the chants of a demon, like a man possessed.
“Just this deep. Just this spot. This much blood. Lily must have been in so much pain. She must have needed me so much.”
In my final moments, I counted the cuts.
One thousand.
He delivered one thousand cuts to me and our baby.
After we were dead, he left our bodies in the bathtub and carried Lily’s ashes to their wedding.
I watched, my spirit floating nearby, as he looked at her urn with a twisted kind of devotion in his eyes. Only then did I finally realize how foolish I had been.
But it was too late.
should have known from the moment I ily returned seven years ago on the day of our wedding. When he received that phone call and left me standing at
<To save his ex, my husband left pregnant me in an exploding car
should have known from the moment Lily returned seven years ago–on the day of our wedding. When he received that phone call and left me standing at the altar.
Even though she had abandoned him, he still came back to me.
But compared to Lily, I never stood a chance.
Seven years of marriage without a groom, seven years of loveless vows, and now it was finally over, drenched in blood.
