Seven Years of Marriage Seven Years Of Lies Novel by Egg Tart

On the day of my due date, I was driving alone to the hospital when I got into a serious car accident. Meanwhile, my husband, an emergency room doctor, rushed off to save his first love, who had slit her wrists.

I didn’t call him again.

I watched in horror as the car exploded into flames right before my eyes.

In my previous life, it was because I made that one phone call for help that he left Jodie Woods behind to save me.

I survived, and so did our baby, but Jodie bled out and died alone in her apartment. Her body wasn’t discovered until three days later.

Zayne Snow told me he didn’t blame me, saying everything was his choice.

He even insisted on giving me a proper wedding ceremony.

But the night before the wedding, he knocked me out and dragged me to Jodie’s apartment.

There, in the very same bathtub where she had slit her wrists, he tortured me with a knife and even cut the baby out of me.

His eyes were bloodshot, madness gleaming in them as he stood over my mutilated body.

“It was just a car accident. You weren’t going to die. But Jodie lost her life because of you. Today, you’ll feel the pain she went through that day,” he said.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the car accident.

There was a loud crash, and the car rolled over. I lay in a pool of blood, heavily pregnant.

The trolley had smashed into me with such force that thick white smoke began to rise.

I never expected to come back to this moment.

When I realized what was happening, I used every bit of strength I had to pull my body halfway out of the driver’s seat.

But my lower body was pinned. I couldn’t move.

Terrified that the car might explode, passersby kept their distance.

My cries for help were drowned out by the noise around me.

Realizing I couldn’t rely on strangers, I shakily dialed 911.

The pain in my abdomen was unbearable now, cold sweat dripping down my forehead.

The woman on the other end of the line was one of Zayne’s colleagues, someone I’d met a few times. As soon as she recognized my voice, her tone turned cold.

She said, “Eliza, Dr. Snow’s busy today. Before he left, he told us you might try calling the office if you couldn’t reach him. I know what you’re going to ask, but I can’t tell you where he is. This line is for emergencies, so please don’t waste resources. I’m hanging up now.”

Before she could hang up, I panicked.

At that moment, a pile of Jodie’s makeup products fell from the passenger seat.

“Wait!” I cried, desperation taking over.

I said, “It’s not about Zayne. I was in a car accident, right outside the hospital. The car could explode any minute. Can you please send help…”

She cut me off, sounding irritated.

She said, “Eliza, cut it out. Dr. Snow’s not here, and even if we sent an ambulance, you wouldn’t see him. Stop this nonsense. This line is for saving lives. Don’t take up public resources just to stage some dramatic act.”

“He’s not ignoring you on purpose,” she added dismissively. “He’s dealing with a life–or–death situation. You’re pregnant, so just stay calm and wait for him to explain everything later.”

Then she hung up.

Tears of despair streamed down my face.

I never imagined Zayne could be so heartless, leaving me without a way out.

I had called his office in the past when Jodie would invent one excuse after another to pull him away from me.

But I had never lied or wasted emergency resources.

We were married for seven years, and this was how he saw me.

No wonder he’d had no trouble hurting me in my last life.

But now, I didn’t have time to think about that.

The temperature in the car was rising, and it was only a matter of moments before the vehicle would explode.

I took a few deep breaths, my eyes falling on the curve of my swollen belly.

Summoning every ounce of strength, I tried to climb out through the shattered window.

My palms were sliced open by the glass, shards embedding themselves deep into my skin.

I managed to move another ten inches out of the wreckage.

But my strength was fading fast. I collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air.

The heat from the car practically roasted my skin. In just two minutes, the smoke had completely engulfed the vehicle.

More people began to gather around, and some of them started shouting for help, asking if there were any doctors nearby.

Soon, I heard hurried footsteps approaching.

I looked up and saw Robert Jackson, the head of Zayne’s department.