He Chose Her Over Our Dying Son

My husband was supposed to be on a family vacation—except it wasn't with our family. He took our son and his first love instead. Then, the unthinkable happened: a car accident.

Because our little boy wasn't wearing a seatbelt, he was thrown from the car. Meanwhile, his precious Kathryn was bleeding—her pregnant belly trapped by the seatbelt that should have saved her.

At the hospital, there was only one operating room left. And Shaun, the man who was supposed to protect our child, made his choice: Kathryn first. Our son could wait.

When I got there, I fell to my knees, begging, "He's just a child! His body can't handle this much blood loss—please, operate on him first!"

Shaun barely glanced at me, his hand resting on Kathryn's stomach like it was the only thing that mattered. "She's pregnant. Saving her means saving two lives. Besides, our son already got a blood transfusion—he'll be fine."

The doctors knew better than to argue with a man like Shaun. So they let my baby die—slowly, painfully—from internal bleeding while they rushed to save her.

I collapsed in the ER, sobbing over my son's lifeless body. Meanwhile, Shaun spent the night in Kathryn's room, whispering fairy tales to the baby in her belly like some doting father.

I carried my son's broken little body to Shaun's grandparents. "You saved my life once, so I married into this family to repay you. But your grandson doesn't love me—or our child—anymore. I'm done."

Old Mr. Howard paced frantically, guilt twisting his face. "Isaiah will be fine! I sent the best doctors—"

But the doctor cut in, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. The blood loss was too severe, the wounds weren't closed in time… and we found no painkillers in his system. He was in agony the entire time."

My breath left me. "What?"

Suddenly, Isaiah's weak cries echoed in my mind—not fear, but pain. Shaun hadn't just abandoned him. He'd let him suffer.

Mr. Howard slammed his cane down, roaring, "That beast!"

Just then, a delivery man arrived with a cheap bag of candy—Shaun's pathetic attempt at an apology.

"Bastard!" Mr. Howard kicked it across the room. "He can't even show his face? Too busy playing house with that vixen? That child will never be a Howard!"

He dialed Shaun over and over—no answer.