Chasing Back My Billionaire Ex Wife

Jasmine's POV

I stared, eyes wide, and jaws dropped at the piece of paper before me. The doctor had no clue what disaster this news could cost me as she dropped it, smiling like I had just won a lottery or something. I was three weeks pregnant!

I covered my mouth to stop the gasp that threatened to escape from my lips. I was unsure of how to react. Should I be happy? But I knew better that happiness was far from me with this news I just received.

My tears rolled freely as his words echoed in my mind.

"If you ever get pregnant, there will be consequences."

His voice had been cold and clear. The weight of his warning was enough to crush me, cause I knew he meant every word.

But how was I supposed to tell him? How was I supposed to confess that I had broken the most important rule of our contract?

My hands trembled as I stared at the ultrasound photo in front of me. The rules were simple and strict. No mess, no complications, no feelings, and above all, no children. I agreed, because what choice do I have? My father was very sick and I needed money to pay his bills. Ethan had money, and he was all I needed.

But now I'm pregnant and everything's falling apart.

My attempt to stop tears from falling proved abortive, as they kept rushing no matter how many times I wiped them. I wasn't crying because I was scared, I was crying because I knew what kind of man Ethan was. He doesn't tolerate disobedience, and he certainly doesn't tolerate surprises.

Standing up, I grabbed the test results and scurried out of the doctor's office. She yelled my name several times but I turned a deaf ear to her.

Getting home, I dropped my bag by the entrance door and headed straight to the bedroom. I stood beside the door for a while, staring at Ethan's sexy chest. It's been three years of marriage but I can't help but feel shy when I see his nakedness.

"What are you thinking about?" Ethan asked, coldly and with a commanding tone.

From as far as I can remember, Ethan never liked me. Not in the way a man should like his wife. To him, our marriage was just a mere contract and he has made it clear from the very beginning.

"I need to talk to you," I began, almost whispering.

Ethan didn't turn around. He only tightened the knot of his tie and reached for his watch on the counter. "Can it wait?" He asked, "I have an important interview today, and I can't be late."

"I know," I replied quickly, grabbing my bag in a rush in an attempt to show him the test results. "But this is important too."

Now he turned and locked his dark eyes into mine, and I could see a mixture of annoyance and impatience "You know I don't have time for this right now," he spat impatiently. "Whatever it is, can't it wait until later? Or is it just another one of your..." He stopped himself, as if even finishing the sentence would waste his time too.

I just..." I hesitated. "I read something in the news this morning, I just wanted to confirm." I lied. " That's all. It's not important. I'll let you go."

"You read something?" he repeated. "And that's what you wanted to talk about? You know what today means, and you chose now to..." He stopped again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You are unbelievable!"

It has always been like this, Ethan never put me first. The only time I get his attention is when he wants to get intimate with me. Afterwards, we live like strangers.

However, just like always, he left without hearing what I had to say.

A few hours later, I was on the couch, the weight of my condition still pressing. I couldn't do anything else, so I turned on the TV, hoping to distract myself with something mindless. But the moment I switched to the news channel, there he was Ethan.

He sat on a polished studio chair, his suit immaculate, his smile sharp and confident as he spoke to the interviewer. For a brief moment, I felt a flicker of pride, even after everything. He was my husband, after all. Maybe I could convince myself the morning didn't matter.

But then the interviewer's next question caught my attention.

"Mr Ethan," the woman said. "The public is curious. How does a man like you balance up with a wife? Or are you still single?"

Ethan chuckled. "Wife?" He repeated. "No, I'm not married. No time for that kind of distraction"

And then he laughed.

I stared at the screen, my eyes widened in shock and my jaw dropped. He didn't have a wife? What was I, then? A ghost? A mistake? A contract he regretted so much he wouldn't even acknowledge it in public?

"No distraction at home, huh?" The interviewer said in a charming voice like she wanted to seduce him.

He gazed towards her and smiled. The woman was dressed in fitted palazzo pants that revealed her curves and a neat blouse that revealed cleavage.

My heart sank as I noticed that Ethan was completely denying me. His attention was focused on that stunning woman.

I stood up abruptly and turned off the TV, my hands trembling with a mix of rage and heartbreak.

"I loved him like crazy!" I cried, my voice echoing with raw emotion. "I gave him my heart, my soul and everything I had! I stayed by his side through every moment of my life and gave him all the support he could ever need!"

I shook my head slowly, sadness creeping into my voice. "But what did I get back?" I whispered bitterly.

"Pain. Nothing but pain. Hatred. And being denied like I was nothing more than a piece of trash."

For the first time in years, a surge of anger consumed me, and I knew that I was ready to shatter the whole place and break his precious interview into pieces.

Jasmine's pov

I walked into the building. I kept going, my heels making a soft click on the ground.

Today should've been the day I told Ethan about my pregnancy, maybe it would have strengthened our relationship. Instead, I found out the son of a bitch has been denying me.

Have I really been deluding myself into thinking I'm his wife?

I hated him and felt like strangling him for wasting my precious years. All these years I had thought he would eventually accept me and change his decision about me not getting pregnant.

I barged through the revolving doors, brushing off the receptionist and security's curious stares.

The receptionist tried to stop me, but I barely heard her over the rush.

I got to the studio and realized I was late. The interview was over, the lights were dimmed, and the crew were packing up.

My annoyance grew, yet I continued to ask everyone around me about Ethan's whereabouts.

Someone on the team mentioned they saw him going to the lounge.

I really appreciated her for pointing me to the lounge; I could hear my heels tapping on the marble as I went. I burst into the room and looked around.

I spotted Ethan hanging out in the kitchenette, with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up. The interviewer stood next to him, chuckling at something he mentioned and casually stroking his arm like it was totally normal.

The sight alone made my stomach twist, like I was going to throw up and I moved closer to them.

"Am I interrupting anything?" I questioned, breaking through their conversation.

Ethan spun around fast, going from shocked to annoyed in just a moment. "What are you doing here?" he questioned menacingly.

The interviewer stepped back and looked at me in a weird way. "I didn't mean to.."

"Oh, don't worry," I interrupted, "You're not the problem. He is."

With a sigh, Ethan ran his hand through his hair as if I was the unreasonable one. "This isn't the time or the place for this"

"You don't get to decide that," I snapped, stepping closer. "Not after what you did today. Not after you went on national television and acted like I don't exist. Like I'm nothing."

I was really losing my cool now; I had kept quiet for years, honoring his choice. He'd never call me his wife when introducing me to anyone, and I get it since our marriage was just a deal. I can't handle this; he didn't even bring me up, even if it was just for appearances.

"Do you know what it's like to love someone who treats you like a burden? To give them everything, your heart, your soul, your loyalty, and get nothing but pain in return?"

"Keep your voice down," he muttered, glancing at the door. "You're causing a scene."

"Good," I noted, my anger bubbling. "Maybe you need a scene. Maybe you need to feel the same pain you put me through!"

I grabbed the glass of water on the table without even thinking. I tossed the stuff at Ethan before he even had a chance to respond. The icy drink hit his face and shirt, leaving him shocked and soaked.

Everyone went quiet. The interviewer covered her mouth in surprise, her eyes widened, but I didn't care. I totally ignored her since I wasn't here for her at all. My gaze stayed locked on Ethan's, speaking with a cold and steady voice.

"You know, I could have been a successful woman by now. I had dreams, goals, and a future ahead of me."

I took a moment, letting him soak in what I said, "But look at me, trapped in this unfaithful marriage-"

"Unfaithful?" Ethan cuts in, "Don't act like a victim here."

I couldn't believe my eyes at his boldness. How could he say I'm acting like the victim here? Is he being serious right now?

"You didn't sacrifice anything for me," he snapped. "You did this for your father! You married me for the money, to save his sinking debts."

I felt a lump in my throat, but I remained composed

"So don't talk to me about sacrifice," he continued speaking with disdain. "Everything you get from me, every bit of this life, is exactly what you deserve."

I glanced at the scar on my wrist and felt a wave of anger wash over me as I remembered how it got there.

"Do you remember this?" I asked, holding up my wrist, my voice trembling with emotion.

Ethan glanced at the scar but didn't say anything.

"I got this from your mother," I said, my voice cracking. "Do you remember how she grabbed me? How she blame me for not being able to give you a child? Do you remember the words she threw at me, the things she made me feel?"

I let the tears roll down my face without bothering to wipe them away. "And all you ever did was to watch saying nothing. You watched her hurt me day by day, and not once did you ever stand up for me."

Ethan fidgeted, looking like he wanted to say something, but I cut him off.

"You knew what I was going through. You knew how much it hurt, how much I needed you, but all you did was turn your back on me. You didn't just fail me, Ethan. You betrayed me."

A heavy silence filled the room, making the tension between us feel intense. He was quiet, but his silence spoke volumes.

I wiped my tears and straightened my shoulders, looking at him squarely in the eye. "You're right," I voiced slowly. "I married you for my father. But I stayed because I loved you. And that was my biggest mistake."

I started to walk out, feeling weighed down with each step. As I went to grab the doorknob, I felt a sudden pause inside me.

I slowly turned around and looked into Ethan's eyes.

"This is over," I said. "Whatever this was, whatever you thought we were is done. I'm done!"

He kept looking at me with that same calmness. He kept quiet, and that silence told me everything I needed to know about being right.

I stepped outside and finally felt free from his shadow after all these years. The only thing that matters to me now is my child and my career. I will make Ethan regret every moment he stole from me.

Jasmine's POV

I trudged the familiar steps back home, my steps heavy and my mind lingering on Ethan's denial. His rejection had stung and I found it difficult to shake off the feeling of embarrassment. Maybe it was because I had not completely processed all of it.

I had poured my heart out to him, and he had callously dismissed me.

My sweaty grip on my handbag tightened, and I walked. The city streets blurred together. Neon lights and billboards faded into the background.

I couldn't help but remember the painful moments from my relationship with Ethan. I couldn't shake off the thought, it hurt way too much to deal with. I touched the slight swell of my belly. It was too early for me to show yet but I thought I felt a small pouch.

I was carrying Ethan's child and had planned to tell him that but now there was no possible way to do so.

I thought back to how many times he overlooked my emotions, disrespected me, and made me feel insignificant. I chose to look the other way and not listen. Deep down, I had chosen to hold hope, hope that maybe in Ethan's cruel way, he loved me.

The truth had revealed itself, he never actually loved me, neither had he ever seen me as a wife. I believed I was married, but it turns out I was just fooling myself for a long time.

Tears started to fill my eyes as I thought back on our chat. I always had a feeling that Ethan didn't feel the same way, but his words still hurt a lot.

"End things, Jasmine! Let us end things anyway! You have always been more of a burden to me rather than a partner."

In that instant, it was as if I got smacked in the belly. Ethan had never been sorry for hurting me. He had always been too self-absorbed to consider my feelings.

I arrived at the apartment, gazing up at the tall structure. It was warmer inside, and the doorman called out a cheerful greeting to me; I could only reply halfheartedly.

Ethan and I had lived in this building since we were married. This place holds a ton of memories, and not all of them are good.

I got to our door and typed in the codes on the keypad to open it. I stepped inside and was hit with a wave of sadness. Tears pricked at my eyes.

Ethan had never wanted to marry me but he had his moments of kindness, fleeting but carrying enough weight that they lingered in my head. Any time he showed the slightest iota of affection, I clung to it hopelessly. But those moments never lasted, only followed by his usual indifference.

My heart ached as I realized that maybe, I did deserve better. I deserved someone who would love me unconditionally, someone who would cherish me for who I was. Ethan had never been that person, no matter how long I'd hoped he would be.

I balled up my hands. The air was super suffocating, like I had a weight on my leg. I couldn't stay here anymore. I had to be gone before he was back from work. I could probably handle his coldness, but I just won't raise my kid in that kind of atmosphere.

I quickly dashed into my room and started tossing my clothes and stuff into a small travel bag. I packed up all my stuff into the bag while tears streamed down my face.

I paused to sigh heavily; I cast one last glance at the room and shook my head in disappointment. I wished that things hadn't ended this way.

I hesitated a bit, but I realized if I didn't take off now, I'd never get the chance. I just couldn't bear the idea of looking at his face again.

I picked up my bags and made my way to the door. I ignored the murmurs from the staff in the lobby downstairs. A flush crept up my cheeks. They knew about the terrible relationship with Ethan.

I walked up to the front door, my hand going for the doorknob right before I was about to turn it. One of the staff finally gathered courage. A maid rushed towards me with her head bent low as she spoke. "Is everything okay ma?" Her tone was shaky.

I sighed heavily. I just wished I was able to leave without having to say a thing to the staff. For the sake of humanity, I chose to clear the air. I cleared my throat and turned to the ones gathered at the far end of the room.

"Ethan and I have made some decisions that he will explain better to you. Don't expect me to return though." I said. They nodded their head at me; some wore sad expressions, but it only made my cheeks burn in humiliation.

A new wave of tears overcame me but I forced my chin up, fighting the urge to break down in front of them.

I opened the door. This time, no one was stopping me. I walked out, lost in my thoughts. I needed to find a place to sleep just for the night.

Turning round a corner, I nearly ran into an

old woman. The woman was on the sidewalk, looking scared with her eyes wide. She clutched a small bag to her chest, her hands shaking.

"Mom?" the elderly lady murmured, her gaze fixed on me. "Is that you, sweetheart?"

A frown of confusion marred my face but I couldn't find it in me to walk away, not when she was old and looked pitiful. "I am not your child," I said gently. "My name is Jasmine."

The old woman shook her head. "No, no, no," she muttered. "You are my child. I know it."

And with that, her gaze locked onto mine, filled with a desperate plea that I couldn't ignore.