Ch. Love Leaving the Port 2 Love Leaving the Port 2

He took her to parties and dinners. 

Like a lovestruck teenager, he eagerly 

introduced her to everyone. 

The day I was discharged, he posted a nine- 

photo collage on his social media. 

At sunset, he stood in a hot air balloon, 

holding Jenny’s face, kissing her passionately. 

I commented: “Congratulations! Wishing you 

happiness and a healthy baby.” 

Ten minutes later, he called. 

I didn’t answer. 

Thirty minutes later, after checking out, I saw 

them at the obstetrics and gynecology 

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department. 

I overheard a nurse say to Jenny, “Mrs. Smith, 

your husband really loves you. He’s always 

here with you. He even warms the gel for your 

ultrasound to keep you from getting cold.” 

The other pregnant women were envious. 

Touching my belly, I remembered the child I 

carried. 

The day I miscarried in a car accident, I 

tearfully video–called him. 

I saw a naked Jenny: “Mrs. Smith, Mr. Smith 

lost a game to me, and is now being 

punished. Is there something you need?” 

I hung up. 

Within a minute, he called back, hugging a 

teary Jenny, cursing me for being petty and 

stupid. 

He said, “You can’t even keep your own child. 

What good are you? You should just get hit, 

by a truck.” 

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Snapping back to reality, I was about to leave, 

when he walked over coldly, “What are you 

doing standing there?” 

Lowering my eyes, I instinctively explained, “I 

wasn’t following you. It was just a 

coincidence. I’m sorry for bothering you.” 

“Wait.” 

He frowned. Jenny’s eyes flashed with 

jealousy. 

Tightening her grip on him, she smiled, “Mrs. Smith, thank you for donating blood. If it 

weren’t for you, I’d still be dizzy. Ethan, 

please let her come home with us, okay?” 

He affectionately stroked her nose, “Whatever 

my sweet pregnant baby says.” 

I didn’t refuse her “kindness.” 

In the spacious car, I found a slightly damp 

lacy thong in the crack between the seats. 

“Oh dear~ Why is this still in the car? Ethan, 

didn’t you say you already took care of it?” 

Hiding in his arms, she shyly hit his chest. He apologized, while subtly observing my 

reaction. 

When he saw I wasn’t angry, the discomfort he’d felt in the hospital resurfaced. 

“Sarah, you’ve been looking at your phone since we got in the car,” he said, resentfully. 

“Are you chatting with your cousin, or 

someone I don’t know?” 

After booking my flight, I turned off my phone 

screen, “Just browsing news.” 

His displeasure intensified. 

He grabbed my phone. 

He demanded my password. 

“My birthday.” 

Nine years of marriage. 

He tried the simple six–digit code repeatedly, 

unable to unlock my phone. 

We arrived in silence. 

He immediately helped Jenny to the master 

く 

bedroom, then instructed the cook to prepare 

her favorite food. 

Downstairs, he saw me heading to the guest 

room. 

He told the cook, “Make two more dishes. 

Mrs. Smith usually eats. Set three place 

settings for dinner.” 

In the guest room, I found all my clothes had 

been cut. 

Fortunately, my passport and documents 

were untouched. 

As I gathered my things, Jenny blocked the 

door. 

Holding a black bottle, she sneered, “Sarah, 

you’re quite patient. You became a 

laughingstock, yet you still cling to Ethan.” “Of course, your grandmother died last 

month, without that support, you need to hold 

onto Ethan’s lifeline.” 

She recalled something amusing, “Sarah, you 

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cried and begged Ethan to take you to the 

hospital by helicopter to see your 

grandmother. Do you know why he refused?