Regret Cheaper Than Dust

Everyone in Seavelt knew that Dr. Ethan Caldwell, the city's top gynecologist, never got close to women.

No matter how many youthful figures stood before him, he never so much as glanced their way.

I always thought I was different, even after ten years together, when he wouldn't let me touch him.

If my fingertips accidentally brushed his sleeve, he'd snap, "Don't touch me."

After another failed attempt to climb into his bed, he sent ten men to sleep with me.

Afterward, when I cried and lashed out at him, he said flatly, "I can't let you live like a nun forever."

The eleventh time he arranged for someone to pin me to the bed, I lost it and swallowed two hundred sleeping pills.

When I woke up, Ethan, for the first time ever, allowed me to touch him.

I thought I could slowly win him over. But the next day, at his private villa, I caught him holding another woman in his arms.

He kissed the top of her head, his eyes burning with a passion I'd never seen.

When I confronted him, Ethan looked at me coldly. "Clara's not like you, Lily. She doesn't have those filthy thoughts or try to seduce men."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood. "Fine, Ethan. Let's break up."

...

The sounds of Ethan and his little sweetheart, Clara Hayes, came from outside the hospital room.

Inside, I groaned, unable to sleep after having my stomach pumped.

Ethan always said he wouldn't let any man taint his love.

But when I swallowed those pills to protect myself, waking up after ten hours in the ER, he only said, "You brought this on yourself."

Yet when Clara nearly tripped while shopping and a bodyguard steadied her, Ethan wanted to cut off the man's hand.

That was when I realized I was never his love.

The sounds of their intimacy outside stabbed my heart like a thousand needles.

When it was over, Ethan came in, his face hard. "What, breaking up again? How many times this month? Getting tired of it?"

Clara curled up in his arms, smirking at me like a stray cat. "If Lily's upset, I can just take care of this baby at the hospital."

"She's pregnant?" I froze.

Three years ago, doctors found cysts in my uterus. They said I had to get pregnant before it got worse, or I'd never be a mother.

I begged Ethan on my knees, but he wouldn't touch me.

Now, Clara had been back in the country for a month, and Ethan got her pregnant.

The pain in my chest drowned out even the ache from the stomach pump.

Ethan's hand rested on Clara's stomach. "Don't mind her. She's nobody. Just focus on the baby. I'll handle the rest."

He said those same words to me five years ago.

He was the lead surgeon back then, and someone jealous of him came at his right hand with a knife.

I took five stabs for him, sparing him a single scratch.

After I barely survived the operating room, he held me by my hospital bed and made a promise. "Lily, my hands are my second heart. You saved me, and I'll protect you forever. Give me a chance to keep you safe. Marry me!"

I remembered it clearly. He made that promise in this very room.

Now, all that remained was his cold stare and mocking scorn.

The last flicker of hope in my heart died. Seeing the red marks on Clara's neck, I said hoarsely, "I'm not joking. Let's get divorced."

Ethan's face darkened. "Fine. If you want to leave, go. Get as far away as you can. Don't come crawling back like a dog with a bone."

With that, he slammed the door and left with Clara in his arms.

My nose stung with tears. These five years with Ethan, I lost everything.

I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the stained ceiling, which mirrored my life, worn down and unrecognizable after these five years.

For five days in the hospital, Ethan never visited me once.

He took Clara to the beach and threw a birthday party for her pet cat.

At that party, he invited every big name in Seavelt.

When I saw the news hit the headlines, I wasn't as upset as I expected.

In five years of marriage, he never celebrated my birthday.

The gifts he gave Clara were dreams I didn't dare hope for.

I mentioned it to him once, but he just said, "You're so dramatic."

The hospital gossip grew louder.

"The unloved one's the mistress. She doesn't even have the sense to step aside. Pathetic."

"Ethan and Clara got pregnant in a month. You've been with him five years, no kid. Guess who's the problem?"

"Who knows why she can't have kids? Maybe she messed around too much and ruined herself."

The words stung, but I knew this was Ethan's way of forcing me to grovel.

He used these tactics before, tormenting me whenever I got upset with him.

This time, I didn't care.

I thought he'd keep ignoring me, but on the day of my discharge, he showed up.

He pushed open the hospital room door, his face unusually soft, and picked up my packed bag for me.

Since deciding to leave, I bought a train ticket, found a new place, and lined up a job.

I snatched the bag from him. "Give me my stuff. Why are you here instead of with Clara?"

Normally, my sarcasm would make him drop the bag, insult me, and storm out.

But not this time.

He took my hand, his voice gentler than ever. "Still mad? Is it worth it? Lily, let's have a kid."

The words hit me so suddenly I froze.

He continued, "Want me to celebrate your birthday? Isn't it coming up? I'll make it up to you tonight. Or want flowers? Gifts? I'll take you shopping now."

I forced a smile. "My birthday's six months away, and I'm allergic to pollen. Didn't you know?"

Ethan paused.

"I said we're getting divorced." I tried to grab my bag, but he wouldn't let go.

In the struggle, my hand brushed his suit pocket, and a paper fell out.

It read in bold letters, "Fetus at risk for congenital heart disease."

It was Clara's prenatal report.

I stared at him, my eyes welling up.

Was this why he suddenly tried to win me over?

In seconds, Ethan's bodyguards pinned me in place.

His face hardened. "Lily, you won't take the easy way, so you get the hard way, huh? Take her to the Caldwell house. No one lets her out without my say."

My body was still weak, no match for two burly guards.

At the Caldwell house, Ethan locked me in the bedroom.

Clara had been back a month, and every trace of me was gone from this place.

The pomegranate tree I spent two years nurturing in the yard was chopped down because Clara didn't like it.

I was allergic to pollen, so the house never had flowers.

Now, the living room, kitchen, and bedroom were filled with Clara's favorite lilies.

A week after returning from the hospital, Ethan tormented me countless times.

The doctor said the cysts in my uterus were growing, making pregnancy unlikely and painful for both me and any child.

Ethan didn't care. "If you can't get pregnant, you'll still try. What about Clara's baby?"

Countless late nights, I refused him, but it only brought force and mockery. "Didn't you always want to climb into my bed? Now I'm giving you what you want, and you're playing hard to get? It's just a kid. Once Clara's baby is born safely, we'll have our own child."

I curled up on the cold sheets, the burning in my stomach lingering, my body aching with fresh tears of pain.

Ethan's words stabbed my heart like poisoned needles.

"Ethan, am I just a surrogate to you?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

He dressed slowly, his eyes dripping with disdain. "What else? You've been in the Caldwell house for five years. Everything you eat, wear, use, it's all Caldwell money. If you give Clara's son a healthy heart, maybe you'll finally be worth something as Mrs. Caldwell."

He left the bedroom without a glance.

The door closed, but I still heard faint voices outside. "Ethan, isn't this too cruel to Lily? Maybe I should just get rid of the baby."

Ethan soothed her softly. "She took five stabs for me and didn't die. What's a kid?"

I knew Clara said it for me to hear.

These days, every night, Clara lingered by my bedroom door.

She glared at me with venom, as if saying, "Ethan only touches you because of me. Try anything funny and see what happens."

Since Ethan dragged me back, my uterus showed signs of worsening cysts.

I needed treatment, swallowing handfuls of pills daily.

Late at night, Clara sneaked into my room countless times.

She stole my painkillers repeatedly. "Ethan said you survived a knife attack, so what's a little pain?"

I trembled in bed, wracked with agony, but to her, it was just a joke.

She pressed a blade to my face, smirking. "My baby's actually fine! I just got pregnant by someone else and couldn't explain it to Ethan. So I came up with this perfect plan. We'll cut the baby out of you early, and I'll fake a miscarriage. That way, I get rid of you and the baby in one go."

The pain nearly made me faint, my voice weak. "Aren't you afraid I'll tell him?"

Clara laughed coldly. "Go ahead. Who do you think Ethan will believe, me or you?"

As she spoke, the bedroom door opened, and Ethan walked in.