Love I Couldn't Keep Novel by Gibsonnia _ Novel




Love I Couldn't Keep Chapter 01
My husband Kendrick abandoned me—pregnant—at the scene of our car accident, just so he could rush off to comfort his newly divorced first love.
I had to push through my own physical distress to deal with the police and the paperwork before finally making my way to the hospital alone.
Because of that, he never found out that I was diagnosed with a threatened miscarriage that day.
He had no idea how hard I fought to save the baby during the month he was gone.
And he had no clue that today I lost our child, and finally decided to leave him.
***
I had just come out of surgery when I learned my husband, Kendrick Lambden, was at the police station again—after another fight over Lenora Millinton, the woman he'd never let go of.
I went to pick him up immediately. When he saw me, he hesitated, clearly searching for an explanation.
"Nora's ex-husband has been harassing her ever since the divorce," he said. "I couldn't just stand by and watch.
"Don't worry. I'm just helping her get through this. It won't go any further than that."
I didn't feel like arguing, so I just gave a noncommittal shrug.
As we pulled into the neighborhood, Kendrick suddenly turned toward me, his lips set in a strained, overly eager smile.
"Britt, do you remember what day it is today?"
My hand instinctively moved to my lower abdomen. I had barely finished the abortion procedure when the call came from the police station.
I had rushed over without a moment's rest, and now a dull, persistent ache throbbed in my belly.
"What day is it?" I asked, feeling light-headed.
"It's our wedding anniversary. Let's go out for dinner tonight. I've booked a table at that restaurant we used to go to when we first met."
I froze for a split second.
Kendrick had the date wrong. Today wasn't our wedding anniversary.
The real one had been a week earlier—the very day he first got into a fight and ended up at the police station over Lenora.
Still, I didn't correct him. I simply replied with a nod, "Okay."
This could be our final dinner—a quiet farewell.
At five, I slipped into the off-white dress he used to love on me and went to the restaurant, where I sat by the window and waited for him.
By 6:00 p.m., the waiter had come by to refill my water for what felt like the tenth time.
By 7:00 p.m., the restaurant had begun to empty out.
When 8:00 p.m. rolled around, the manager approached me politely to ask if I wanted to release the reservation.
I shook my head, ordered a set meal for one, and ate in silence.
As I was settling the bill, the manager said hesitantly, "Mr. Lambden called a moment ago. He said something urgent had come up tonight and asked us to put the bill on his account."
"That won't be necessary," I replied, pulling out my own card. "I'll pay for my own."
When I finally stepped out of the restaurant, the late-night wind bit sharply at my skin.
Standing on the sidewalk, I took out my phone and, out of habit, checked Lenora's Instagram.
She had posted half an hour ago.
"The best part of a bad day is when you mention feeling down after the divorce, someone drops everything just to be there for you.
"Thank you for listening to my rambling and for cheering me up with a home-cooked meal."
The post featured a nine-photo grid.
There was candlelight, red wine, and beautifully plated home-cooked dishes.
The final photo showed a man's back; he was wearing an apron, busy in the kitchen.
I scrolled through the photos slowly, feeling as though I were looking at a seven-year record of my own foolishness.
At our university's opening ceremony, Kendrick gave a speech as the freshman representative.
I remember sitting in the audience, watching his gaze sweep through the crowd until it landed on me, lingering for those few, deliberate seconds.
After that, he pursued me relentlessly—bringing breakfast to my dorm, dropping off lattes at the library, and walking me back in the rain under his umbrella.
Everyone said it was love at first sight for him.
Then one night, he got drunk. He pulled me close by the waist and murmured the name "Nora."
I froze. He opened his eyes, looking at me with a hazy smile. "You look so much like her," he whispered.
That was when I learned about Lenora—his high school crush, the one who got away and was studying abroad.
All because my eyes resembled hers, I ended up as Kendrick's consolation prize—a mere substitute.
After graduation, I turned down a stable job in my hometown to stay in an unfamiliar city for him.
I learned to dress in Lenora's style and grew my hair out until it reached my waist, just like hers.
Because he once mentioned that Lenora was quiet and reserved, I toned down my naturally talkative, outgoing self.
For seven years, I lived as another woman's shadow, naively believing that, given enough time, he would eventually see the real me.
The phone screen reflected my tired, hollow expression.
I lightly tapped the "like" button on her post, then navigated to my chat with Kendrick.
"I want a divorce."

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