Signing Divorce on the Day of Miscarriage
Calvin said he wanted to host a welcoming banquet for her and booked the most luxurious private room in the city.
As Calvin Gresham's wife, it was only natural for me to stay by his side.
The lighting in the private room was warm and soft; Vivian Scott wore a white dress, her smile still holding that innocent look from years ago.
The waiter brought over the drinks, and Calvin picked up the bottle to pour me a glass.
I instinctively covered the rim of the glass and whispered, "Calvin, I can't drink alcohol."
Calvin froze for a moment, and Vivian looked over as well.
I took a deep breath and confessed the secret I had hidden for half a month: "I'm pregnant."
As soon as I spoke, Vivian's smile disappeared instantly.
She suddenly stood up, her eyes filled with disbelief and anger.
Before we could react, she grabbed the fruit knife from the table and cut off her long hair.
Black strands of hair scattered and fell to the floor.
Calvin cried out in surprise and tried to stop her but was pushed away.
Vivian held the remaining half of her hair and ran out of the private room as if she were mad.
I sat where I was, my fingers icy cold, my heart pounding rapidly.
Before long, Calvin's assistant called to say that Vivian had gone to a temple on the outskirts of the city to cut her hair as a vow to become a nun.
Calvin Gresham hung up the phone and suddenly turned to glare at me.
His gaze was like ice, sending a chill down my spine.
"Veronica Sinclair, are you satisfied now?" His voice was filled with grinding, furious anger.
I opened my mouth to explain, but he interrupted me.
"You clearly know how much Vivian cares about me, so why did you have to announce your pregnancy at this moment?"
He stepped closer to me, his tone full of accusation: "You deliberately provoked her, you're the one who drove her away!"
I stared at him, a wave of cold dread rising in my heart.
We had been married for a year, and he had never spoken to me in such a tone before.
Before I could respond, Calvin suddenly grabbed the scissors from the table and yanked at my hair.
I screamed in fear, trying to pull away, but he held me tightly.
"Since Vivian cut her hair, don't think you'll be allowed to keep yours either."
The cold scissors pressed against my scalp as strands of my long hair fell to the floor.
I looked at my disheveled reflection in the mirror and couldn't hold back the tears.
After cutting my hair, Calvin didn't even look at me; he grabbed his coat and walked out.
"Stay here, don't wander off."
His voice was completely cold, as if I were just a meaningless stranger.
I sat alone in the empty private room, strands of hair—from Vivian Scott and me—scattered across the floor.
Outside, the sky grew darker, and my heart sank steadily.
Calvin Gresham ultimately brought Vivian Scott back from the temple.
Vivian wore plain clothes and had her hair cut short, looking especially pitiful.
Calvin took her back to our home—the house we had decorated together.
After I entered, Calvin Gresham said to me directly, "Veronica, you should move to the guest room; let Vivian have the master bedroom."
I was stunned, unable to believe my ears.
"Calvin, that's our bedroom..."
"Vivian needs to rest properly now, and the guest room is suitable for you." He cut me off, his tone brooking no argument.
Vivian Scott stood to the side, her head bowed, but the corner of her mouth curled into a barely perceptible smile.
I looked at Calvin, filled with grievance, yet still nodded.
On the day I packed my things and moved to the guest room, Vivian Scott began arranging fresh flowers throughout the house.
The living room, dining room, and even outside my guest room door were filled with white lilies.
I'm allergic to lilies, which Calvin Gresham had known for a long time.
I approached Calvin and said, "Calvin, I'm allergic to lilies. Could you ask Vivian to remove the flowers?"
Calvin was peeling an apple for Vivian Scott and frowned when he heard me.
"Vivian just came back and isn't in a good mood. What's wrong with putting out some flowers to cheer her up?"
"But I'm allergic; it will make me uncomfortable..."
"Just bear with it, it'll pass. Don't be so fussy." His tone was thick with impatience.
I was about to say more when Vivian Scott walked over.
She looked at me with a challenging gaze: "Ms. Sinclair, these flowers were specially bought for me by Calvin. On what grounds do you expect me to move out?"
"I'm not asking you to move out; it's just that I'm allergic..."
"Allergic? I think you're deliberately looking for trouble." Vivian cut me off, raising her voice, "I'm the one in this house now. Don't even think about usurping my place!"
Her words made my whole body tremble with anger; I turned to look at Calvin Gresham.
But Calvin just frowned and said to me, "Veronica, hold your tongue and apologize to Vivian."
"I'm not wrong; why should I apologize?" I stared at him in disbelief.
"If I say apologize, then you apologize!" Calvin's voice grew cold. "Don't upset Vivian again."
I looked at him, and the last flicker of hope in my heart was extinguished.
Silently, I turned and returned to the guest room, closed the door, and let the allergy symptoms slowly appear.
My skin started to itch, and my throat felt uncomfortable, but I had to endure it alone.
The next morning, my allergy symptoms had worsened.
My face broke out in rashes, and I couldn't stop sneezing.
When Calvin saw me like this, instead of showing any concern, he frowned and said, "Look at yourself—how did you let it get this bad?"
Vivian stood beside him, insincerely saying, "Calvin, don't blame Veronica; maybe it was just an accident."
Calvin, however, was unappreciative. He turned to me and said, "Take your medicine quickly, don't infect Vivian."
He took a bottle of allergy medicine from the drawer and handed it to me.
I took the bottle and saw the production and expiration dates on it, feeling my heart sink.
This medicine had long since expired.
"Calvin, this medicine is expired; I shouldn't take it." I handed the bottle back to her.
But Calvin snatched the bottle, twisted off the cap, poured out a few pills, and stuffed them into my mouth.
"Cut the nonsense—when I tell you to take it, you take it!"
The pills stuck in my throat, bitter and astringent, making me feel like vomiting.
Vivian Scott watched from the side, her eyes filled with pride.
Before long, Vivian suddenly cried out, "Ah!" and fell to the ground.
Her hand was cut by shards of the vase on the floor, bleeding slightly.
Calvin Gresham was startled and quickly rushed over to help her up, his voice full of tenderness: "Vivian, are you alright? Does it hurt?"
"Calvin, I'm fine, it was just an accident..." Vivian leaned against him, her eyes red.
"How can you be fine when you're bleeding?" Calvin Gresham said as he picked Vivian Scott up and headed for the door, "I'll take you to the hospital so the doctor can have a thorough look."
He reached the door, glanced back at me coldly, and said, "Stay home. Don't cause any more trouble."
The door closed behind him, leaving me alone in the house.
My allergic symptoms worsened; I began struggling to breathe and felt completely weak.
I wanted to call for help but lacked even the strength to lift my phone.
Just as I was about to lose consciousness, the housekeeper, Martha, returned.
Startled by my condition, Martha quickly dialed 911.
"Miss Veronica, hold on, the ambulance is almost here." Martha wiped my sweat anxiously as she spoke.
I leaned against Martha's chest, tears finally streaming down my face.
If Martha hadn't come back, I might honestly have died right there.
The ambulance took me to the hospital. The doctor examined me and said I had a severe allergy and needed to be admitted for observation.
I lay on the hospital bed, utterly drained of strength.
Before long, Calvin Gresham and Vivian Scott also arrived.
Vivian Scott's hand was already bandaged, and it didn't seem too bad.
An intern came over and bandaged the scratch on my arm caused by an allergic reaction.
Suddenly, Vivian took a small bottle of medicine from her bag and handed it to me.
"Veronica, this is a special medicine I had someone bring back from abroad; it's very effective for allergies. You should take some."
I looked at the unfamiliar bottle warily.
"No, thank you. The doctor has already prescribed medication for me." I shook my head and refused.
Vivian Scott's smile stiffened for a moment, and she turned to look at Calvin Gresham.
Calvin frowned and said to me, "Vivian kindly gave you the medicine; why won't you accept it?"
"I don't dare take medicine from strangers." I insisted.
"What stranger's medicine? This is a special medicine Vivian specifically found for you!" Calvin said as he picked up the bottle, poured out a pill, and tried to put it into my mouth.
I turned my head away to avoid it.
"Calvin Gresham, I don't want to take it!" I raised my voice.
But Calvin Gresham didn't listen to me at all. He held my head down and forcibly shoved the pill into my mouth.
I tried to spit the pill out, but he firmly covered my mouth.
The pill slid down my throat, and soon after, my throat began to hurt severely.
"Cough, cough... my throat..." I coughed until tears streamed down my face.
The doctor heard the noise and rushed over. After examining me, he said my throat was scratched by the pill.
Calvin looked at me in pain but showed no sign of guilt. Instead, he told the doctor, "She was just careless; it's nothing serious, right?"
The doctor frowned but said nothing, only prescribing me some medicine for my throat.
That evening, when I got home, Vivian Scott brought me a bowl of porridge.
"Veronica, your throat is sore. Have some porridge." She smiled gently and warmly.
I looked at the bowl of porridge, feeling somewhat hesitant.
But I was really hungry, so I took the bowl anyway.
After just one sip, a sharp wasabi flavor hit me.
My throat was already injured, and the wasabi stung it, making tears stream down my face from the pain.
"Vivian Scott, what did you put in the porridge?" I threw the bowl of porridge onto the floor, glaring at her in anger.
Vivian, however, feigned innocence: "Veronica, what's wrong? I didn't put anything in it, it's just plain porridge."
Calvin Gresham heard the noise and came over; seeing the porridge on the floor, he frowned and said:
"Veronica Sinclair, what nonsense are you causing this time? Vivian kindly made you porridge, and you still threw the bowl?"
"She put wasabi in the porridge; my throat is practically burning!" I pointed at Vivian and told Calvin.
"Don't wrongly accuse me, I didn't do it." Vivian Scott burst into tears, feeling wronged.
"Calvin, I truly didn't put wasabi in it; she just didn't want to drink it and was deliberately looking for an excuse."
Calvin Gresham watched Vivian Scott crying pitifully, then looked at me, and in the end chose to believe Vivian.
"Veronica Sinclair, that's enough!" His voice was filled with disappointment. "Can't you just make things easier on me?"
I looked at him, my heart turning ice cold.
In his eyes, I was always the one making a fuss, while Vivian was forever the innocent victim.
Calvin Gresham picked up the broken bowl of porridge from the floor and said to me, "Drink the rest of the porridge; don't waste Vivian Scott's kindness."
"I won't drink it; there's wasabi in the porridge!" I shook my head and took a step back.
"If I tell you to drink it, then you drink it!" Calvin's eyes darkened fiercely as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the dining table.
Vivian Scott filled another bowl of porridge and handed it to Calvin.
Calvin scooped up a spoonful and brought it to my mouth.
"Mmm..." I struggled desperately, but he still forced several spoonfuls of porridge down my throat.
The taste of wasabi spread across my mouth, the pain in my throat grew sharper, and my stomach began to ache faintly.
"Calvin, my stomach hurts..." I clutched my belly, my face pale.
But Calvin completely ignored me, continuing to shove porridge into my mouth.
Only after he finished the entire bowl of porridge did he let me go.
"Don't ever go against Vivian again, or you'll regret it." He said coldly, then took Vivian back to the master bedroom.
I collapsed to the floor, my stomach hurting more and more.
I tried to get up and find Martha, but I realized I didn't even have the strength to stand.
The pain grew more intense, like countless knives were slicing into my abdomen.
I knew my child probably couldn't be saved.
I took out my phone and trembled as I dialed Lawyer Zimmerman.
"Lawyer Zimmerman, please draft a divorce agreement for me. I want to divorce Calvin Gresham."
After hanging up, I sent Calvin a message telling him I was getting a divorce.
Not long after, Calvin replied with just a few words: "Veronica Sinclair, what tricks are you playing again? Trying to threaten me with divorce? Dream on."
Seeing his message, I couldn't help but laugh, but tears ran down my cheeks.
It turned out that, in his eyes, my asking for a divorce was just a threat.
The pain in my belly worsened; my vision darkened, and I lost consciousness.
When I came to again, I was lying in a hospital bed.
Martha sat by the bedside, her eyes red-rimmed.
"Miss Veronica, you're awake? The doctor said... your child is gone." Martha said, her voice choking with emotion.
I looked up at the ceiling, tears silently streaming down.
My child was just gone like that.
It was all because of Calvin Gresham and Vivian Scott.
At that moment, my phone rang; it was Lawyer Zimmerman calling.
"Ms. Sinclair, the divorce agreement has been drafted. When will you be free to sign it?"
"I'm at the hospital right now. Please come here." I said calmly.
After signing the divorce agreement, I asked Lawyer Zimmerman to send it to Calvin Gresham.
I knew that between Calvin and me, it was completely over.
When Calvin received the divorce agreement, he finally realized how serious the situation was.
He rushed to the hospital, and seeing my pale face and empty belly, his eyes were filled with disbelief.
"Veronica, our child... our child is really gone?" His voice trembled.
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