Pregnancy should be a wonderful time in a woman’s life, filled with love, excitement and support from her partner. But for me, it was the beginning of a nightmare that I could never have foreseen.
Before I got pregnant, Arnie was the perfect husband. He showered me with love, carried me in his arms and made me feel like the most desirable woman in the world. When we found out we were expecting, he grinned from ear to ear, holding the positive test in his hands as if it were the greatest treasure.
But as soon as my body began to change, everything changed with it.
At first, it was just little comments. ‘You could at least dress better instead of walking around in your pyjamas all day,’ he muttered, ignoring the fact that I had been nauseous all morning.
Then came the complaints. ‘The house is a mess,’ he grumbled one evening as he took off his shoes. ‘You just lie around all day.’
I swallowed my exhaustion and tried to explain. ‘Arnie, my back hurts and I feel nauseous all the time. I can barely stand up without feeling dizzy.’
But he didn’t care. He started staying up late, glued to his phone, texting someone.
‘Who are you talking to all the time?’ I asked one evening.
‘It’s just work,’ he snapped, barely looking up.
And one evening, when I was eight months pregnant, he came home smelling of women’s perfume.
‘Where have you been?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Arnie didn’t even look at me. He threw his keys on the table and shook off his jacket.
‘None of your business.’
My stomach twisted, but before I could say another word, he stormed into the kitchen.
‘JESSICA!’ His voice boomed throughout the flat.
I flinched. My heart pounded. I slowly got up from the sofa, my stomach heavy, my legs weak.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, gasping for breath.
Arnie stared at me from the kitchen. ‘Where’s dinner?’
I swallowed hard. ‘I’m nauseous again. I tried, but every time I smell food, I run straight to the bathroom.’
Arnie rolled his eyes. ‘Could you at least wash the dishes?’ He snorted derisively. ‘What do you do all day anyway?’
Tears stung my eyes. ‘Arnie, I’m carrying our daughter. My body is working overtime…’
‘Don’t start!’ He cut me off. ‘My sister was pregnant. She did everything. She cooked. She cleaned. She still looked good. And she never ignored her husband in bed!’
I gasped for breath. My chest hurt as if he had punched me.
That night, I cried myself to sleep.
And then it got worse.
The insults became daily. Cold stares. A complete lack of concern for me and our unborn child.
One day, I told my best friend everything. She listened, and with every word, her expression grew darker.
‘Jessica, you need to leave him,’ she said.
I shook my head. ‘I can’t. I have no money, no job, nowhere to go.’
‘You’re not alone,’ she insisted. ‘You don’t deserve this.’
I wanted to believe her, but I was trapped. Until one night, when everything changed.
Arnie was in the shower. A notification popped up on his phone, which he never left unattended. My hands trembled as I picked it up.
A dating app. Dozens of messages. Women he had flirted with, dated, and slept with while I sat at home carrying his child.
My stomach clenched. I grabbed my belly, protecting the baby from the pain, but in that moment, my mind cleared.
I had to leave him. But I needed a plan.
The next day, I took action.
And just as I was about to give birth, Arnie walked through the door with another woman.
‘Who is this?!’ I screamed, my voice shaking with rage and disbelief.
Arnie smirked. ‘This is Stacey, my girlfriend.’
My stomach twisted. ‘WHAT?!’
He threw a folder on the table. ‘I’m leaving you. Here are the divorce papers.’
I stared at him, my body numb. ‘What about our baby?’ I whispered.
Arnie shrugged. ‘I don’t need you or your child.’
Tears welled up in my eyes. ‘How can you be so cruel?’
He sneered. ‘Look at yourself! Stacey is young, beautiful and, most importantly, she never refuses me.’
He kissed her right in front of me.
‘YOU MONSTER!’ I shouted, grabbing a pen from the table and signing the papers.
Arnie smirked. ‘At least I’m not like you.’
I glanced at him. ‘I’ll take my things when you’re not at home!’
‘Do it quickly. Soon you won’t have access to this house — it’s my property!’
He thought he had won.
He had no idea what was in store for him.
I gave birth to my daughter Riley on the same day I filed for divorce.
We lived with my mother for a while. I healed. I found myself again.
One afternoon, I was startled by a knock at the door.
It was Stacey.
‘It’s over. Your plan worked.’
I was overcome with relief. I smiled. ‘Finally.’
‘Arnie signed everything without reading it. The house. The bills. Everything.’
I laughed. ‘He never questioned anything I put in front of him.’
When Arnie was gone, Riley and I returned to the house that was rightfully ours.
One evening, I heard shouting in the street.
‘Stacey! Come back to me! I beg you! I have nothing left!’ Arnie’s voice sounded desperate.
I stepped out onto the porch, arms crossed. ‘Poor thing,’ I said, amusement in my voice.
Arnie turned his head toward me. ‘What are you doing here?!’
I smirked. ‘Didn’t expect that, did you?’ I took a step forward. ‘I tricked you, Arnie. Stacy was part of my plan. You fell right into my trap.’
His face reddened with rage. ‘You’re a witch! You set me up!’
I shrugged. ‘No, Arnie. Your own lust set you up. I just gave you the perfect opportunity to destroy yourself.’
His anger turned to despair. ‘Come back to me. I’ll be better.’
I didn’t even pause. ‘No.’
‘You’ll never find anyone but me!’ he snapped.
I smirked. ‘I don’t need anyone else. Meanwhile, you’re homeless. I think I’ll be fine.’
‘Jessica, please,’ he pleaded, his voice breaking.
Without another word, I turned and walked into the house. The lock clicked behind me.
I picked Riley up and held her close. I had her, and I didn’t need anything else.
