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My Career and Love Life Flourished after a Divorce Novel Cover

My Career and Love Life Flourished after a Divorce

On the third day after my unexpected miscarriage, my husband, George Wood, brought home my stepsister, Savannah Ahmed. She was eight months pregnant. My stepmother, Julia Ahmed, said, "The Food family needs a child to continue the family legacy." My father added, "Clara, you must learn tolerance." When Savannah had an accident, George dragged me to the hospital and said, "We must save Savannah, even if we have to drain every last drop of Clara's blood. Clara, you should feel honored that you are still useful." George's cold words pierced through my heart. "You may leave now." I lay alone in the hospital corridor, waiting to die, but no one knew that I had already made a deal with George's most formidable rival, who was like a devil from hell.
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Chapter 3

"Stay optimistic and don't get too pessimistic." The doctor repeatedly advised as he scrutinized my test results.

I nodded in agreement, but my heart felt desolate. How could I not be pessimistic with such a family?

On the day I was discharged, I went to collect my final check-up report. Just as I reached the ultrasound room's entrance, I heard a familiar voice inside.

Savannah nestled in George's arms and gently traced her fingers over her rounded belly. She said gently, "Baby, you must be good, and don't worry about Mommy and Daddy."

George gazed down at her, and his eyes were overflowing with tenderness. "I'll make sure to take good care of you and the baby."

I stood at the doorway and felt like an unwelcome intruder.

Savannah noticed me and immediately displayed a look of "surprise" as she slowly approached me with her belly bulging.

George followed closely behind.

Savannah gave me a conciliatory smile and said, "Clara, "I heard everything from George. Thank you for donating blood to save the baby and me. Without you, we would have been in danger."

I let out a cold laugh and said, "Don't say that. I didn't do it voluntarily."

Savannah was stunned. Her eyes became slightly red as she lowered her head in distress.

George instantly frowned and glared at me with icy eyes. "Clara, you are bullying Savannah again. Can't you be less harsh?"

"George, don't say that." Savannah tugged at his sleeve and said softly, "Clara was just discharged from the hospital. She hasn't fully recovered, and it's reasonable that she's not in a good mood. Let's go and let her stay quiet."

As she passed by me, she suddenly leaned in close and whispered provocatively, "Clara, I'll take good care of George for you."

I watched them walk away together and gripped my test report so tightly that my knuckles turned pale.

Back home, my father, Charles Ahmed, showed no concern for me. Instead, he coldly furrowed his eyebrows and warned me. "If you don't want to be kicked out of the family, stay away from Savannah."

I stared at him, and my heart felt broken. "Dad, I'm your daughter. Why do you only have eyes for Savannah and never care for me?"

Charles's expression twisted into a snarl. "Shut up. Savannah is my only daughter. When I was diagnosed with kidney failure, Savannah generously donated one of her kidneys to save my life. And you, Clara, you ran away. You left me to die in the hospital."

I was stunned, and my mind went blank.

How could that be?

It was I who donated the kidney back then.

After the surgery, I still bear a long, ugly scar on my waist.

I never mentioned it all these years because I didn't want my father to feel indebted to me.

"That's not true, Dad." I hurriedly explained. "I was the one who donated the kidney..."

"Shut up!" My father interrupted me harshly, and his eyes were filled with fury. "You're stealing Savannah's credit again. You've been jealous of Savannah since you were little. You always snatch her things and blame her for everything. How did I have such a malicious daughter like you?" He advanced towards me, and his tone was icy and piercing. "I wish it were you who died back then. You're nothing but a shame to me."

My blood froze instantly as I stood there, watching him storm off in anger.

Tears filled my eyes. How could my father disgust me like that? Was I really so bad?

That was not true. They were blinded by falsehood. It was not my fault.

I wiped away my tears and walked resolutely back to my room.

I gathered everything related to George, including the matching shirts, the photos, the gifts he had given me, and the memorabilia.

Holding those things, I went to the yard and found a metal barrel to set them ablaze.

The flames leapt up, consuming those once sweet memories. The smoke stung my eyes with tears, yet I felt relieved.

Just then, George's car screeched to a halt at the yard's entrance.

He pushed open the car door, and his face turned livid at the sight of the fire.

He strode towards me and shouted angrily, "Clara, what on earth are you doing?"

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