Better Me Without You Novel by Lesilie Wong _ Novel




Better Me Without You Chapter 01

I had been a late-night relationship radio host for ten years.
The final broadcast before the show's cancellation coincided with the first snow in Washington D.C., and it also marked the seventh year of my marriage to law professor Arthur Pendelton.
My producer, Elowen, gave me a hand signal and patched through the final hotline call of the night.
"Hello, Ms. Vance."
A young girl's voice came through the airwaves, tinged with a trace of sweetness. "I'm in so much pain. I've fallen in love with my college professor, but he already has a wife."
"He's notoriously rigid and old-fashioned, but to me... he seems to treat me differently."
"When I had a fever, he canceled his academic conference to bring me hot chicken noodle soup downstairs at my dorm. When I cried over my thesis, he stayed up with me, revising it word by word."
Just now, at our department dinner, he was worried I'd be cold, so he draped his cashmere coat over my shoulders in front of everyone..."
I held my pen, quietly listening to the girl's description with a professional, gentle smile on my lips.
Unconsciously, Arthur's face surfaced in my mind.
My husband was exactly that kind of man—aloof and ascetic in the eyes of outsiders, yet he gave all his patience and favoritism to me.
Just this afternoon, I received my ultrasound report, showing I was eight weeks pregnant.
I softened my voice, patiently consoling her just as I had done every late night for the past ten years: "Dear, it's normal to admire an outstanding professor, but he has a family after all. A relationship built on the pain of others is destined to never see the light of day."
"Actually, my husband is also a college professor. It wasn't until I met him that I understood true love is about restraint and responsibility. I hope that in the future, you will find a love that can be openly celebrated."
The other end of the line fell silent for two seconds.
Then, the girl suddenly let out a soft, cryptic chuckle.
"But Ms. Vance, he told me his marriage is like a pool of stagnant water. Only when he's by my side does he feel truly alive."
"I really envy you, Mrs. Pendelton."
"Beep—"
Before I could even react, Elowen, pale with fright, frantically cut the connection.
My mind instantly went completely blank.
She called me Mrs. Pendelton.
Trembling all over, I looked up. Through the glass of the broadcasting room, I didn't see the familiar figure who had promised to pick me up from work tonight.
My phone screen suddenly lit up with a ten-second video sent from an unknown number.
The background of the video was an exclusive private supper club.
Arthur, the man who in the eyes of outsiders had morality and law carved into his very bones, was currently looking down with gentle eyes, using his chopsticks to place a carefully deboned piece of fish onto the plate of the young girl beside him.
And draped over that girl's shoulders was the exact same black coat Arthur had worn when he left the house this morning.
Below the video was a single line of text: Ms. Vance, he stopped loving you a long time ago.
I had known Arthur for seven years. He was a legal scholar who demanded efficiency even when eating, once frowning and telling me, "The time cost of deboning fish is too high; it's better not to eat it at all."
But now, he was giving perfectly deboned fish to another girl.
The heating in the broadcasting room was on full blast, yet I only felt freezing cold.
The ultrasound report in my bag was crumpled in my tight grip, its edges nearly piercing the palm of my hand.
I didn't return the call, nor did I demand answers hysterically.
I pushed open the building's glass doors and walked out into the swirling first snow of Washington D.C.
The icy snowflakes landed on my face, sending my thoughts drifting uncontrollably back to seven years ago.
During the first snow seven years ago, we met and fell in love.
That year, I was just a rookie radio host, while Arthur was already the youngest associate professor at Yale Law School, invited to the station as a special guest for legal outreach.
It was snowing heavily that day, too. After being fiercely reprimanded by my boss for misreading an important script, I hid alone in the stairwell outside the studio, secretly wiping away my tears.
It was Arthur who handed me a tissue.
After that, he began to appear frequently in my life.
When I ran a high fever, he stayed by my side in my rented apartment all night, holding a thick copy of the Civil Code;
When I was cyberbullied with malicious comments, he used his professional expertise to issue cease-and-desist letters on my behalf, backed by solid legal grounds.
On the day he proposed, there were no roses or candlelight. He simply took out a prenuptial agreement he had drafted himself, along with the proof of all assets under his name.
He looked into my eyes and said, word by word: "Elian Vance, the law is the lowest standard of morality, but my loyalty and love for you will be the highest principle of my life. Will you allow me to fulfill the obligation of caring for you for the rest of my life?"
I believed him.
I thought this man, who had rules and restraint carved into his very bones, had given me the most indestructible devotion in the world.
But as it turned out, his so-called highest principle was nothing more than a piece of scrap paper that could be torn up at any moment.
At half-past eleven that night, the door lock gave a soft click.
Arthur was home.
He took off his coat and hung it in the entryway. I keenly caught that, beneath his usual scent of fir, the coat carried a faint trace of fruity perfume belonging to a young girl.
Thinking I was already asleep, he didn't turn on the living room lights. Instead, he walked into the study, not even bothering to shut the door completely.
Soon, his hushed voice drifted from the study.
It sounded like he was on the phone with his childhood friend, Abram Bryant.
"Are you out of your mind, Arthur? You took that little girl to the exclusive private supper club today. Weren't you afraid of running into someone you know and having it reach Elian's ears?"
Abram's voice leaked through the receiver: "You've always kept your nose so clean. Why are you suddenly so invested in a female student? Even playing around should have its limits!"
My entire body stiffened. I bit down hard on the back of my hand and held my breath in the darkness.
The study fell silent for two seconds. Then came the click of a lighter, and Arthur's voice sounded, completely devoid of warmth:
"She's not just some ordinary student. She is Chloe Dawson."
Abram paused, then suddenly drew in a sharp breath. "Chloe? Wait, she isn't that orphan girl from the mountains you've been sponsoring for the past ten years, is she?"
"It's her."
Arthur's voice dropped lower. "I watched her grow from a frail, starving little girl, fighting tooth and nail to get into a top university, right under my nose. Abram, you have no idea what her eyes look like when she looks at me—so fiery, yet so timid."
In the darkness, my nails dug so deeply into my palms that they drew blood, yet I couldn't feel a single ounce of pain.
"You... you're playing with fire!" Abram was frantic. "Even if your heart aches for her, sponsoring her education is enough! Are you really going to divorce Elian and marry her just for this bullshit protective instinct?"
"Divorce? I would never divorce Elian."
Arthur replied without the slightest hesitation.
"Elian is the wife I handpicked from thousands. She is emotionally stable, fiercely independent, and keeps the house in perfect order. She is the most perfect Mrs. Pendelton to stand by my side. My marriage will never change."
"Then what becomes of Chloe?"
Arthur tapped lightly on the desk: "Elian and Chloe are nothing alike. Elian is strong and independent. She's like a tree; even without me, she can still hold her own at the radio station and live a beautiful life."
"But Chloe can't. She is far too fragile. Besides me, she has absolutely nothing. If I don't look after her, the world will devour her whole, leaving nothing behind."
Arthur's voice gradually softened. "Elian can weather the storms, but Chloe can only be raised in a greenhouse. I will only give Chloe the shelter she needs, but the position of Mrs. Pendelton will always belong to Elian."
I used to think he didn't like taking me to social events because he was naturally aloof and preferred peace and quiet;
It turned out he just saved all his exceptions and high-profile gestures to back up another insecure girl.
Tears silently breached their dam, rolling down my chin and dripping onto my coat.
I looked down and touched my flat stomach. My stomach churned violently, and a fierce wave of dry heaving rushed up my throat.
How pathetic.
I slowly stood up from the sofa and wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes.
The pregnancy test report in my pocket was originally meant to be my seventh wedding anniversary gift to him tonight.
That night, I sat in the dark until dawn.
No interrogations, no crying or screaming.
Just as Arthur had said, I was too strong—so strong that even my breakdowns were completely silent.
In the early morning, I turned on my computer and did the first thing: drafted a divorce agreement.
Second, I messaged my overseas station director, "I've thought about what you asked me to consider last time, and I'm willing to go overseas for further studies."
Third, I scheduled a medical appointment for an abortion.
On the app, I skipped the obstetrics department and clicked into the Planned Parenthood Clinic.
The page redirected, and I booked a painless abortion.
Looking at the green "Appointment Successful" on the screen, my tears finally crashed down.

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