Pregnancy is supposed to be a beautiful journey, a time of love and support. That is, if you have a partner who stands by your side.

For me, it was anything but beautiful. Morning sickness plagued me for months, but worse than that was Arnie—my husband—the man who once treated me like a queen but now couldn’t stand the sight of me.

Before pregnancy, our relationship was strong. Arnie adored me, showering me with affection and making me feel like the luckiest woman alive. When we decided to have a baby, he was overjoyed, holding the positive test like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

But the moment my body started changing, so did he. It started with small, cutting remarks. “You could at least try to dress nicely instead of wearing pajamas all day,” he muttered once, oblivious to the fact that I had spent the entire morning throwing up.

Then came the complaints. “You just lie around all day,” he grumbled. “This house is a mess.”

I swallowed back my frustration. “Arnie, I can barely stand without feeling dizzy. My back is killing me.”

But he never listened. His patience wore thin. He started coming home late, glued to his phone, dismissing my questions with vague excuses about work.

One night, eight months pregnant, I waited for him. My belly was enormous, my feet swollen, my body aching. When he finally walked in, he smelled of perfume that wasn’t mine.

“Where were you?” I asked, my voice weak.

He didn’ bother looking at me. “None of your business.”

Then he stormed into the kitchen and shouted, “Jessica!”

I flinched. Forcing myself up, I wobbled toward him, each step a battle against my own body.

“What is it?” I asked, breathless.

Arnie stood by the fridge, scowling. “Where’s dinner?”

I swallowed hard. “I feel sick again. I tried, but even the smell of food makes me run to the bathroom.”

He rolled his eyes. “And the dishes? Couldn’t even do that?”

My heart pounded as I grasped the counter for support. “Arnie, I’m carrying our child. My body is working overtime—”

“Don’t start.” His voice was sharp. “My sister was pregnant, and she did everything. She cooked. She cleaned. She never ignored her husband.”

The words stung. Tears welled in my eyes. “Pregnancy isn’t the same for everyone. I never expected this to be so hard, but I’m doing my best.”

He scoffed. “You’re just lazy.”

And then, he left. Slamming the door behind him.

That night, I sat alone, tears streaming down my face. How had the man who once loved me turned so cruel?

Hours later, a message from his mother appeared on my phone: He’s here. He needed space.

Relief mixed with pain. At least he wasn’t with another woman—at least, not yet.

When he returned, he was colder. Every glance filled with resentment. Every word laced with bitterness.

“This place is filthy.”

“You don’t even take care of yourself.”

“You’ve really let yourself go.”

The words cut deep, but I endured. I had nowhere else to go.

Then, everything changed.

One evening, while Arnie was in the shower, his phone buzzed. My hands trembled as I picked it up.

A dating app. Dozens of messages. Flirting. Meetings. Affairs.

My stomach lurched, my breath catching in my throat. My hands instinctively cradled my belly. He had abandoned us long before this moment.

I needed to leave. But I needed a plan first.

I stayed silent, gathering my strength. And then, just as I was about to give birth, Arnie walked through the door—with another woman.

“Who is this?” I demanded, my voice shaking with rage.

He smirked, wrapping his arm around her. “This is Stacy, my girlfriend.”

My heart pounded. “WHAT?!”

With infuriating calm, he tossed a folder onto the table. “I’m leaving you. Here are the divorce papers.”

My entire body went numb. “What about our child?” I whispered.

He shrugged. “I don’t want you or the baby.”

Tears blurred my vision. “How can you be so cruel?”

Arnie scoffed. “Look at you. You sit around all day, whining. Stacy, on the other hand, is beautiful, young, and—most importantly—she never says no to me.”

Something inside me snapped. Without hesitation, I grabbed the pen and signed the papers.

Arnie smirked. “At least I don’t look like you.”

I glared. “I’ll get my things when you’re not home.”

“Do it fast,” he sneered. “Soon, this place won’t be yours.”

He thought he had won. He had no idea what was coming.

I gave birth to my daughter the same day our divorce was finalized. It felt like one life had ended, and another had just begun. Holding Riley in my arms, I felt stronger than I had in months.

For a while, I lived with my mother, regaining my strength, reclaiming my confidence. Then, one day, a knock at the door changed everything.

Stacy stood there, arms crossed. “It’s over,” she said. “Your plan worked.”

Relief flooded me. A slow smile spread across my lips. “Finally.”

Arnie, blinded by his own ego, had signed everything over to me without realizing it. The house, the accounts—everything he once flaunted was now legally mine.

With Arnie out of the picture, Riley and I moved back home. Life was peaceful, finally.

Then, one evening, I heard shouting outside.

“Stacy! Come back! I have nothing left!” Arnie’s voice was desperate.

I stepped onto the porch, arms crossed. “Poor thing,” I said with a smirk.

His eyes burned with rage. “What are YOU doing here?!”

I chuckled. “Didn’t see this coming, did you? You fell right into my trap.”

His face twisted in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

I tilted my head. “At some point, I got tired of your lies. So, I hired Stacy to seduce you. And you, being the fool you are, handed me everything on a silver platter.”

His face turned red. “You set me up?!”

I shrugged. “No, Arnie. Your own greed and stupidity did.”

Desperation flickered in his eyes. “Come back to me. I’ll be better.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

“You’ll never find anyone else!” he snapped.

I smirked. “Look at me—I’m thriving, and you’re homeless. I’ll be just fine.”

His shoulders slumped. “Jessica, please.”

Without another word, I turned and walked inside, locking the door behind me.

I picked up Riley and held her close. I had everything I needed.