Seven Babies Lost to His Mistress’s Diet Plan—He Regretted It After I Filed for Divorce

Stanley Sanchez, one of the biggest names in Harbor City, fell for a college girl who sold tofu pudding from a cart, and spent a fortune bringing her home to work as a nutritionist.

The two of them made a bet over the child in my belly. Cindy Pruitt had me, a pregnant woman, eating nothing but tofu pudding three meals a day. "I promise you, as long as your wife does exactly what I say, she'll give birth to a big, healthy baby boy."

From then on, everything went through Cindy on a request form, from the twenty cents of scallions, ginger, and garlic all the way up to twenty-three dollars of folic acid, even the hundred-and-eighty-dollar prenatal ultrasound that pregnancy required.

Every one of them Cindy rejected as a nonessential expense.

In three years I got pregnant six times, and lost every one to malnutrition.

When I got pregnant the seventh time, Cindy crowed, "Stanley, this time you're going to lose for sure! Once your wife gives birth to a big, chubby boy, you'll let me go!"

This time, I was hemorrhaging, and I called Stanley, begging him to take me to the hospital.

Cindy only knitted her brows. "Sis, driving the car once costs eighty dollars in gas. Think how many kids in the mountains that could feed. I'd bet you're just doing this to get Stanley to worry about you, aren't you?"

I pleaded, over and over.

Stanley hung up coldly. "Cindy's word is my word. Don't push your luck, or I'll replace the woman sitting in Mrs. Sanchez's seat any time I please."

Then he turned around and bought Cindy thirty million in jewelry to smooth her over.

That night the blood poured out of me, and I lost the seventh child.

And then, by chance, I overheard Stanley talking to someone.

"Stanley, you know full well Teresa Cooley's been malnourished for years now. There's no way she can carry a healthy child. Why are you still letting Cindy run this house?"

"I just want Cindy to stay by my side. Even one more day is worth it. This is the last time."

So it turned out those seven children I lost had all become offerings at the altar of their love.

The blood drained from my face, and the pain in my heart nearly knocked me off my feet.

I called my mother. "Mom, I want to divorce Stanley."

My mother only froze for a second, then asked me in a fluster, "What's wrong with our darling Teresa? Did Stanley hurt you?"

Back when I got pregnant, my mother had been overjoyed, certain she'd finally get to hold a grandchild. She knew how much I'd loved Stanley all these years, and she was sure the two of us would make it to the end together.

In that moment, my tears fell like rain. "Mom, it's nothing. I'm just tired. Let's go abroad."

The dull ache in my lower belly hadn't stopped.

Seven years. Seven children.

My mother-in-law had mocked me as a hen that couldn't lay an egg. The people in the Capital elite circle had joked that I was a miscarriage machine.

"Teresa's been with Stanley for seven years and miscarries every single time. Who knows if she's been sleeping around out there and wrecked her womb, so she can't have a baby?"

The first time I miscarried, I cried until I nearly passed out, apologizing to Stanley again and again. "I'm sorry, it's my fault, I'm useless, I couldn't keep the baby."

Stanley had gripped my hand and comforted me. "It's all right. As long as you're okay, nothing else matters."

The second time, the third time, the corners of his mouth lifted a little higher each time.

Only now do I understand that his excitement back then was never for the little life growing inside me.

It was because he had another child to use as a stake, to gamble that spending every day with Cindy would make her fall in love with him!

Stanley, how could your heart be so cruel!

I hung up the phone.

Cradling my aching belly, I meant to go back to my room, but in the hallway I ran into Stanley and Cindy again.

"What are you doing here?"

Stanley's face changed in an instant, disgust in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Are you following me?"

"It has nothing to do with you."

A whole day and night.

He never once asked whether my belly still hurt, whether I was all right. He only interrogated me.

Cindy only frowned. "Miss Cooley, you're being so extravagant. There's clearly nothing wrong with you, yet you keep running to the hospital to waste money. Isn't it just to get Stanley's attention?"

I was there for a routine prenatal check-up, and she called it wasting money.

Yet the thirty-million-dollar necklace at her throat glittered blindingly.

"Running to the hospital every other day. Don't you realize that if something happens to the baby in your belly, Stanley and I lose our wager again!"

"I don't even want to stay by your husband's side. Every time he does that sort of thing he's so overbearing about it. Last night he actually hurt me. Miss Cooley, do me a favor and keep your husband in line!"

The wager again.

My poor seven unborn children. They left me forever before they could ever call me Mommy.

I dug my nails into my palms.

Eyes red, I glared at her, hard.

"Miss Pruitt, you've got legs, don't you? If you want to leave, you can go anytime. Nobody's stopping you. Is being a mistress something to be proud of?"

Cindy's eyes reddened, and she clutched at her chest as if wounded. "Miss Cooley, you think I want this?"

Stanley steadied her by the shoulders, his cold gaze cutting toward me. "You know perfectly well how proud Cindy is, how she keeps her word. She couldn't leave unless she won the wager. Why do you have to humiliate her like this?"

Cindy kept pounding on Stanley's chest, sobbing until her eyes swelled red. "It's all your fault, all your fault. If you hadn't tied me to your side, how would I ever be branded a mistress?!"

Stanley's voice softened.

Gently, he wiped away her tears.

"The one who isn't loved is the real mistress."

My breath caught, and I lifted my head in disbelief.

"Stop crying. You've only just gotten pregnant. Crying too much isn't good for the baby."

I was shaking all over. My chest felt like it had split open, wind whistling straight through the crack.

A baby?

Cindy was pregnant?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to tell you. This is exactly the reaction I was afraid of."

Stanley's voice was calm, and that disgusted look in his eyes stabbed deep. "Now I can see Cindy was right. You really are jealous of her."

Something like blood lodged in my throat, and I kept swallowing it down.

He looked at me the way he'd once looked at the driver who hit me with his car. Vicious, unhinged, beating that driver like a madman.

He didn't stop until I wrapped my arms around him.

He'd cried and said he loved me, that he couldn't stand anyone hurting me.

Yet now, for another woman, he hurt our children again and again, distrusted me again and again.

Cindy buried her face shyly against Stanley's chest, lifting her chin at me in triumph. "No name, no standing. Either way, I'm not going to give birth to your child. Not unless... you divorce her!"

Slowly, I looked at Stanley.

I clenched my fists, uneasy.

Would he agree to what Cindy asked?

Stanley's brow furrowed, and he glanced at me.

His tone was light.

"Fine."

The stone in my chest dropped, and dropped again.

It struck until everything was crushed to a bloody pulp.

The instant I turned to leave, tears streamed down my face.

Home again, I began packing my things.

The vow Stanley had written at eighteen.

"I, Stanley, will never do wrong by Teresa as long as I live. I will always cherish her, trust her, love her. If I ever break this, let me grow old alone, forever losing the one I love."

So a lifetime had only ever been seven years.

Stanley walked in just then.

He didn't see me toss the paper into the trash.

He still thought I was carrying his child.

"It's only for show. You're still pregnant. There's no need to actually clear the whole place out."

I let out a soft, mocking laugh. "If I didn't, how would you ever coax Cindy? And when she gives you the cold shoulder, you'd be the one hurting, wouldn't you?"

Stanley went silent for a moment.

After a while, he circled his arms around my waist from behind.

"You know how much I like her. It's only a fake divorce. Once she has the baby, I'll come back to you, all right?"

"Aren't you afraid that after the divorce, I'll marry someone else?"

He gave a helpless little laugh. "Anyone else might. But not you."

He'd grown so used to my meekness, my waiting, that he was certain I couldn't live without him.

That was the only reason he believed I'd stay right where I was, waiting for him even after the divorce.

"Besides, you're carrying my child. I promise you, after all this is over, we'll live a good life together."

I bit down hard on my lip, forcing myself not to make a sound as I cried.

Stanley.

Our child died a long time ago, and you're the one who caused it.

But there was no reason to tell him the truth.

"Fine."

Seeing how cleanly I signed my name on the divorce papers,

Stanley hesitated, thrown by an odd flicker of panic. "Teresa, I love you."

"When this is over, you'll remarry me, won't you?"

"Of course."

He'd deceived me seven times. All I did was deceive him once.

Stanley, this is what you owe me. What will your face look like when you finally learn the truth?

Just before I left with my luggage.

The hospital suddenly called. My mother had gone into cardiac arrest and been rushed into the ICU.

The surgery would cost fifty thousand dollars.

I begged Stanley to lend me some money first.

He was just about to make the transfer.

Then Cindy came rushing in, snatched his phone out of his hand, and scolded me with a face full of disapproval.

"If I remember correctly, you and Stanley are in your divorce cooling-off period right now. You've already signed the papers. How do you have the nerve to use his money?"

"Besides, good people are looked after by heaven. If your mother had done plenty of good deeds all along, she'd pull through this hardship without needing any surgery."

"Stanley, don't you think I have a point?"

Stanley looked at me, torn.

Every cent of the household finances was in Cindy's hands.

To get money, Cindy had to agree first.

I looked at my mother's face gone gray, and my voice trembled as I choked back sobs and knelt down to beg Cindy. "Please, I'll fill out forms. Fill out as many forms as you want, however many you say. She's all I have left."

"Don't try to guilt-trip me."

Cindy pried me off without a shred of mercy.

"I already told you. If you want money, go earn it yourself. Stanley works hard for every dollar. It's bad enough you don't appreciate him, and now you want to throw his money around."

My eyes went red.

I turned on Stanley. "Is that what you think too?"

"Stanley, if you lend money to your ex-wife, that proves you still have feelings for her. I'll go get an abortion right now!"

Cindy shrieked, clutching her belly, and stormed off toward the maternity ward in a fury.

Stanley went straight after her.

I grabbed his hand, crying. "Stanley, just transfer the money first, please? I swear I won't show up in front of you two again for the next few days. I swear."

"Cindy's right. If your mother were a good person, how would something like this happen to her? I'll go calm Cindy down first. Wait for me to come back, and then we'll talk"

He coldly pulled his hand free from mine and walked away without looking back.

At that same moment, a sharp, urgent sound rang out from the emergency room.

The doctor stepped out. "I'm very sorry, Ms. Cooley. We did everything we could, but your mother didn't make it. She's passed away."

"No"

A thick, metallic sweetness surged up in my throat.

The world spun. I thought of my mother smiling as she watched me in my wedding dress, smiling as she said she couldn't wait for the day she'd hold a grandchild

But now, she would never live to see that day.

I had my mother cremated.

I sat frozen at the funeral home the whole night.

Cindy posted another picture to her feed.

Stanley was leaning back against a hospital bed, tenderly stroking her hair.

"In the moment I was falling apart, thank God you were there beside me. If you hadn't been willing to donate a kidney to my mom, I might not have a mother anymore."

While my mother went into the crematory furnace and I was screaming out my grief, he was there soothing another woman's feelings.

He wouldn't give me fifty thousand dollars to save my mother, but he gave one of his kidneys to Cindy's mother.

Good people are looked after by heaven. All of it lies, all of it to fool me.

A fine, needling pain spread through my chest.

Another transfer notification came through on my phone.

Stanley called: "How's your mom? I've already sent the money over."

He thought my mother was still alive.

"There's no need."

My voice broke.

My mother was already dead. What good was the money now?

Beside him, Cindy laughed and cooed.

"See? I told you your mom's the type heaven looks after. She'll pull through without any surgery at all."

"Yes, yes, my Cindy is right. How about I get you this bag?"

Stanley's voice was thick with indulgence.

Cindy answered with righteous conviction: "There's no need. One bag costs fifty thousand dollars. I'm not that kind of shallow woman. How could our love ever be measured in money?"

"If I don't buy it for you, how do I prove how much I love you?"

Stanley turned around and had someone buy ten of them, just to prove his heart to Cindy.

I laughed until the tears streamed down.

Half a million dollars in bags, and he bought them for her without so much as a blink.

But my mother's life wasn't even worth fifty thousand dollars.

The month passed quickly.

Three more days, and I could go with Stanley to file for the divorce.

But Stanley showed up at the door in a fury, gave a single order, and had my mother's home smashed to pieces.

The photos of me and my mother lay shattered across the floor.

Her clothes were all burned, not a single piece left.

I broke, screaming at him, "Why? What exactly did I ever do to you?"

Stanley's eyes were cold. "Drop the act. You had Cindy's food cart smashed, didn't you?"

"She was badly shaken. She nearly had a miscarriage!"

Back when we were together, whenever I got hurt he was the first to protect me, just like that.

"Something happens to her, and I'm the first person you suspect? We're already divorced. What reason would I have to hurt her?"

But Stanley didn't believe it.

"Cindy wouldn't approve your prenatal checkup, and then she wouldn't let me lend you money for your mother's surgery. You've been holding a grudge."

"A bowl of tofu pudding costs three dollars. You smashed it without a second thought. Do you know how long it takes Cindy to sell a hundred dollars' worth? Go apologize to her."

The pain in my chest was choking me.

I slapped him across the face. "In your dreams!"

Stanley sneered and had them bring bowl after bowl of tofu pudding. When I refused to eat, he had it forced down my throat.

Only after I vomited did he step forward, unable to bear it, and pat my back. "Will you dare do it again?"

The tears surged like a tide. I shoved him away, hard. "Get out!"

A flight departing in three days popped up on my phone.

"Where are you going? Don't forget, in three days we're getting the divorce papers. If you don't show, Cindy won't be able to deliver in peace."

Stanley's gaze fell on my phone screen, but I covered it quickly.

"It's a flight I booked for a coworker."

Stanley's pitch-black eyes fixed hard on me.

But he didn't press any further.

Three days later, outside the county records office.

Once the divorce papers were signed, Stanley offered to give me a ride.

I thought that was fine. This was probably the last time we would ever see each other.

Halfway there, he took a call and dumped me out of the car. "Cindy says she needs me for something. You can walk back yourself."

I gave a bitter smile.

"Stanley, I never want to see you again."

But the moment I stepped out, someone yanked a hood over my head.

Someone drove a stun baton into my belly.

Ninety-nine times, every blow landing with vicious force.

"Who are you people?"

The taste of blood filled my mouth.

The man sneered as he pulled a burlap sack over my head and threw me into the fighting pit.

"You crossed someone you never should've crossed! You knew Miss Pruitt was the apple of Mr. Sanchez's eye, and you still dared to provoke her. You had this coming!"

"No, it can't be, he wouldn't do this to me"

I still refused to believe Stanley could go this far.

"Cindy, I brought you the one who led the mob that trashed your cart. Punish her however you like."

Stanley's voice came from the platform above.

The blood in my veins froze.

It really was him?!

Cindy's voice floated down, soft and delicate. "Really? No matter who's inside this sack, you'll let me punish them however I want? Even if the person down there were Teresa?"

Stanley hesitated for a heartbeat, then answered, doting. "Of course. You're the one I love most. Whoever hurts you, I'll pay them back a hundred, a thousand times over. No one matters more than you."

My mind roared.

Hot, stinging tears ran down my cheeks. Every organ in my body ached!

All because I wouldn't apologize to Cindy?! He would punish me like this?

Cindy smiled down at me, venomous. "Then let the dogs in. Smear her with chicken blood first. That's what she gets for ruining my tofu pudding."

"Whatever you want."

"No! Stanley, you can't do this to me!"

I fought with everything I had, screaming, only to be kicked hard to the ground, blood bursting from my mouth.

A pack of guard dogs lunged at me like they'd gone mad.

Stanley glanced around, uneasy, wanting to check. "What was that just now? It sounded a little like Teresa"

Cindy suddenly cried out in pain. "Ah! Stanley, my stomach hurts so much. Will the baby be all right?"

In an instant he swept her up into his arms, never once looking my way.

The men asked him what to do with me.

Stanley answered, impatient. "Whatever."

The dogs tore me into a bloody ruin, every organ screaming.

Tears mixed with blood, the pain shaking my whole body, my knuckles white.

Seven years of love, traded for a single "whatever"!

Stanley, I want you to never, ever find me again!

The moment they threw me into the water, I thought of the year I turned eighteen, when I fell into the sea by accident.

To save me, Stanley had nearly drowned in the deep water himself.

He'd knelt beside me, giving me breath after breath, and the man who was always so composed wept like a child. "Teresa, wake up. Just wake up, and I'll give you anything you ask for."

That boy whose whole heart, whose whole gaze, had once been only me, was the one who threw me into the sea with his own hands