Losing 60 Pounds and My Toxic Husband

I gained sixty pounds during my pregnancy.

My husband, Ethan, stopped giving me my allowance, claiming it was to "monitor" my weight loss. "Lose ten pounds, and I'll transfer you two hundred dollars." "Until you're back to your normal weight, all your expenses will depend on your progress." My next prenatal copay was $200.

To scrape the money together, I starved myself for half a month. But I only lost three pounds. "Are you even trying?!" Ethan snapped over FaceTime. "It's not ten pounds.

I'm not sending you a dime." The hunger felt like a beast clawing at my insides. I forced myself to go without food for three whole days, finally losing those ten pounds.

I took a screenshot of the scale and sent it to him on Snapchat. I waited at the hospital, desperate for him to send the money. But he only transferred me one dollar.

It wasn't until three hours later that he sent another text. "My assistant, Amber, sent that by mistake. I'm transferring the rest now." I didn't argue. I didn't make a scene.

I just accepted the money quietly. Suddenly, I felt warm blood trickling down my thigh. The next thing I knew, I was being rushed into the operating room. Maybe it was for the best.

If the baby was gone, would he finally be happy? An hour later, the baby I had spent three years getting IVF shots for was gone.

I sat alone on the cold, sterile plastic chair in the hospital hallway for two hours. Ethan didn't call me once. Instead, my phone buzzed with a Snapchat notification.

His assistant, Amber Hayes, had posted a photo of her holding a brandnew Hermès Birkin bag. "So grateful for Ethan's generosity!

Finally got my dream bag!" That bag cost at least fifteen thousand dollars. Meanwhile, my medical copay was less than two hundred.

The hunger in my stomach returned, sharp and agonizing. I used to crave food constantly when I was pregnant, but now, the thought of eating made me sick.

I stood up, stepped out of the hospital, and ran the three miles back to our Malibu villa.

Gasping for breath, I pushed open the front door, only to find a digital smart scale blocking the entryway. "Mrs.

Vance, you're back?" Our housekeeper, Maria, stood at the door, looking highly uncomfortable. "Miss Hayes bought this scale to help you track your weight.

She said... if you didn't lose weight today, you aren't allowed inside..." I looked past her into the living room. Amber was standing right next to Ethan.

She was wearing a tight, designer dress that I used to wear before I got pregnant. "I'm so sorry, Ethan," Amber said, her voice dripping with sweet innocence. "It's all my fault.

My period started unexpectedly and ruined my dress.

Chloe won't be mad at me for borrowing hers, right?" "Why would she be mad?" Ethan replied, his voice dripping with cold indifference. "Can she even squeeze into that dress now?" Ethan took off his wirerimmed glasses, a look of exhaustion on his handsome face. "Thank God you posed as my wife at the gala today, Amber.

Otherwise, if I had brought Chloe, I would have been the laughingstock of the entire business circle." Ethan leaned back against the sofa. "A hundred and seventysix pounds...

My competitors would have had a field day with me." The words hundred and seventysix pounds sliced through my chest like a dull knife, tearing my heart to shreds.

I froze at the entrance, unable to move. During my pregnancy, my morning sickness had been severe. I threw up blood, and my skin broke out in dark, hormonal spots.

Once, I even ran a dangerously high fever. Back then, Ethan had held my hand, tears in his eyes, begging me to carry our child to term. He wanted a real family.

To save the baby, I endured endless hormone injections and medications. My weight ballooned out of control.

He had promised me that no matter what I looked like, he would always love me. Now, I was just his "fat embarrassment." "Oh! Ethan, look! Mrs. Vance is back!" Amber gasped.

Then, she covered her nose with a look of disgust. "Oh my god... what is that smell?" Amber bit her lip, pretending to hold back the rest of her words.

Ethan frowned and walked over to the door.

When he saw the state I was in, covered in sweat and pale as a ghost, a flash of disgust crossed his face, though he quickly hid it. "Chloe, are you doing this on purpose to punish me?" "Just because Amber made a mistake and sent you one dollar instead of two hundred?" "Just because the money was a little late?" His voice was hoarse, and he suddenly covered his mouth, dryheaving. "Are you okay, Ethan?" Amber rushed to his side, looking frantic.

She turned to me, accusingly. "Chloe, Ethan had to drink a lot to sign that massive contract tonight. Please don't be angry with him.

It was all my fault!" Amber gently supported him, her hands naturally slipping to untie his tie and undo his top collar buttons. I watched them, my heart completely numb.

I took a step forward to go inside. But Amber blocked me instantly, her voice turning sharp. "Chloe, you have to step on the scale first!"

My foot froze in midair. I looked at Ethan. He looked back at me, his eyes cold and hard. "Chloe, we're doing this for your own good." "You can't keep making excuses.

You can't even manage your own weight." "The wife of Ethan Vance shouldn't lack this much selfcontrol." "Do you want to remain a joke to everyone in my circle?" His words were like ice water poured over my head.

I closed my mouth, pushing the hospital discharge papers deeper into my bag. "Fine," I whispered. I kicked off my sneakers.

But Amber immediately frowned. "Chloe, taking off your shoes is cheating, don't you think?" "Ethan told me that when we started this, you cheated by keeping your shoes off.

You have to weigh yourself exactly as you are!" I froze, then stepped onto the scale with my shoes on.

The screen lit up. 171 lbs. "One hundred and seventyone?" Amber's voice rose in disbelief. "Are you cheating, Chloe?

How did you lose five pounds in a single afternoon?" I ignored her. My throat was burning. I walked past them and went straight to the kitchen.

I tried to open the fridge, but the handle wouldn't budge. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, Chloe," Amber said, walking into the kitchen with a smug smile. "The best way to lose weight is intermittent fasting.

It's past 11 PM now, so the smart lock on the fridge is activated.

It won't unlock until 7 AM tomorrow." She handed me a printed sheet of paper. "This is a customized workout and diet plan I got from a professional trainer.

Please follow it strictly." I glanced at the paper. It was packed with intense workouts and nearstarvation diets.

Every single minute of my day was micromanaged. "No way," I said, crumbling the paper in my hand.

I looked directly at Ethan, who was watching from the doorway. "Ethan, my mom is still in the ICU.

I have to go to the hospital to see her every single day!" Ethan frowned and reached out to take the paper from my hand.

But Amber cut in. "Ethan, if you trusted me to handle this, you need to let me do my job." "Her mom is in the ICU.

Going there doesn't help anyway." She turned back to me, her voice stern. "Chloe, stop making excuses.

If you keep this up, you'll be fat for the rest of your life!" Ethan's hand froze. Suddenly, his phone rang.

He took the call and walked away, throwing one last sentence over his shoulder. "Amber is right, Chloe." "And don't forget, I'm the one paying for your mother's ICU bills." I watched him walk away.

My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. I went up to the master bathroom and drank tap water from the sink just to soothe my burning throat. His words echoed in my mind.

My heart grew colder with every second. That night, I tossed and turned, barely sleeping.

Just as I was finally drifting off, my phone vibrated violently. "Miss Miller, your mother is in critical condition!" the nurse's frantic voice came through the speaker. "She hasn't regained consciousness, and her vitals are dropping!

You need to get to the hospital immediately!"

I threw on a coat and ran downstairs. As soon as I reached the living room, Amber blocked my path. "Chloe!

Did you break into the kitchen and steal food last night?!" I stared at her, confused and furious. "What are you talking about?" Ethan walked out of the kitchen, still in his silk pajamas.

In his hand, he was holding the shredded leftovers of a roast chicken and some halfeaten fruit. His eyes were filled with disgust and disbelief. "Chloe!

Have you lost your mind?!" "I asked you to lose weight for your own health, and for our baby!" "And this is what you do behind my back?!" "You utterly disappoint me." He threw the ruined food into the trash can with a heavy sigh. "Maybe I was wrong.

I shouldn't have cared.

I should have just let you eat yourself to death." "At least then, I could have married a woman who actually cares about her body." Those cruel, biting words pierced my ears.

I shook my head frantically, reaching out to grab his sleeve. "Ethan, I didn't!

I swear I didn't eat that!" Amber suddenly pulled out the digital scale and pushed me away. "I knew you'd deny it...

So, let the scale speak the truth!" She placed the scale on the floor. Ethan looked at me coldly. "If you didn't eat it, step on it.

Prove it." I thought of my mother waiting for me in the ICU. I swallowed my tears and stepped on the scale. 177 lbs. "Oh my god!

One hundred and seventyseven!" Amber gasped. "And you still claim you didn't steal food?!" I stared at the numbers, completely stunned. "That's impossible...

I didn't eat anything!" I grabbed my phone, looking at Ethan with pleading eyes. "Ethan, the hospital just called. My mom is in critical condition.

The doctors said she might not make it. Let me go to the hospital first.

We can figure out the scale later, please..." Amber chimed in, rolling her eyes. "Is this another lie, Chloe?

Convenient timing to dodge the truth, don't you think?" I ignored her and grabbed Ethan's hand. "Ethan, please believe me!

I would never lie about my mother's life!" Ethan stared at me for a few agonizing seconds before nodding. "Fine. I'll drive you." I rushed to the garage, tears blinding my eyes.

But as I reached for the passenger side door, Amber grabbed my arm. "Chloe, Ethan's business partners think I'm his wife.

If someone sees you sitting in the front seat looking like this, it'll start rumors. It's bad for Ethan's business." My body went rigid. I looked at Ethan.

He stood there, silently nodding in agreement. My heart shattered. I opened the back door and slid inside.

Not long after we started driving, Amber suddenly pushed her passenger seat all the way back, pinning my legs. I looked up, trying to adjust, and that's when I noticed it.

Ethan and Amber were wearing matching silk pajamas. Suddenly, a loud, empty growl echoed from my stomach.

Amber burst into giggles, covering her mouth. "Wow, Chloe, your appetite is really something else. You ate all that chicken and you're still hungry?" "Oh, wait, I forgot!

You're eating for two." I stared at the back of her head, my eyes burning. "How much I weigh has nothing to do with you!" I snapped. "Chloe!

Watch your mouth!" The car screeched to a halt on the side of the highway. Ethan turned around, his eyes blazing with fury. "My wife is not a classless, disrespectful brat.

Apologize to Amber. Right now!"

My head spun from the sheer force of Ethan's anger.

I sat frozen, unable to draw air into my lungs. "It's fine, Ethan," Amber said softly, her voice sweet and conciliatory. "I know Chloe didn't mean it.

I forgive her." "I did nothing wrong!" I forced the words out of my dry throat, my voice trembling. "Why should I apologize to her?!" Ethan's face turned incredibly cold. "You're not apologizing?" "Then get out of my car." The back door clicked open.

Outside, the rain was pouring down in sheets.

Cold wind and rain immediately splattered onto my face. "Chloe, I'll ask you one last time," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Are you going to apologize?" "No." Before the word could fully leave my mouth, Ethan slammed the door.

The car accelerated instantly, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust. Muddy water splashed all over my clothes. I stood in the pouring rain, shivering, completely lost.

My phone rang. "Miss Miller! Where are you?!" the nurse yelled over the line. "It's been an hour! Even from Malibu, you should have been here by now!

Do you even care about your mother?!" I squeezed the phone, unable to say a word. I frantically called an Uber and finally arrived at the hospital.

Thankfully, my mother had stabilized. She held my hand, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. "Chloe... what happened to you?

Why do you look so exhausted?" "You used to love fashion and dressing up... Is Ethan treating you badly?" I looked at my bloated reflection in the ICU window.

Tears finally spilled over, and I couldn't stop crying. ... When I returned to the villa, I sat in the dark living room until nightfall. Finally, the front door opened.

Ethan walked in, smelling heavily of alcohol. Beside him, Amber was blushing, her collar slightly disheveled.

On her neck, there was a glaring, fresh hickey. "Chloe, please don't misunderstand," Amber whispered, though she deliberately pulled her collar lower to show it off. "Ethan's business partners doubted we were a real couple tonight.

They insisted we prove it, so Ethan... had to." My chest throbbed with a physical, agonizing pain. Ethan didn't even look at me.

He untied his tie and started walking toward the bedroom. "You don't need to explain anything to her." I clenched my fists, reaching into my bag for the miscarriage discharge papers.

But before I could speak, Ethan walked back out with a suitcase. "Chloe, Ethan has to go to Europe to inspect some raw materials with his partners.

They're all bringing their wives," Amber said, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "I'll be accompanying him. We'll be gone for... about two months." I looked at Ethan.

I slowly let go of the medical papers in my bag. "Ethan," I said quietly. "Let's get a divorce." "What did you say?!" Ethan spun around, his face contorting with absolute fury. "Chloe!

I work myself to the bone for this family, and all I did was ask you to lose some weight!

And you want a divorce?!" He kicked his suitcase over in anger. "Fine!" "You want a divorce? Lose the weight first.

In two months, if you're back to your normal weight, I'll sign the papers!" With that, he slammed the door and left. I sat in the silence, a bitter smile spreading across my face.

The baby was gone. I didn't need to take the hormone shots anymore. Losing sixty pounds in two months? Without the drugs pumping through my veins, it wouldn't be hard at all.