My Husband @buses me for not taking care of him, but I’m 7 months Pregnant

The life insurance payout was significant, and some of Scott’s family members suspected foul play, but nothing was ever proven. The room started spinning. “You think she killed her husband? I think it’s a remarkable coincidence that she’s now involved with your husband, who is actively trying to kill you using a method that causes liver failure.” “Oh my god, they’re doing this together.” Patricia nodded grimly. “I think we need to involve the police sooner rather than later. This isn’t just about your case anymore. If Jennifer and Marcus are working together, and if she’s done this before, there could be more victims. We spent the next hour planning. Patricia would contact a detective she trusted in the state police, someone outside of the local department where Marcus’ uncle had influence. They would begin an investigation into both Marcus and Jennifer. Meanwhile, I would continue acting normal at home to avoid suspicion, but I would stop consuming anything Marcus prepared for me. And Emily, Patricia said as I was leaving, sleep with your door locked and keep your phone with you at all times. That night was one of the longest of my life.

Marcus came home late as usual. I pretended to be asleep when he came to bed. I felt him settle in beside me, heard his breathing slow into sleep, and I just lay there staring at the ceiling, terrified. This man, who I had loved and married and built a life with, had been slowly poisoning me for months, planning my death, all so he could collect insurance money and start over with his mistress. The next morning, Marcus made me a protein shake as usual. I watched him from the corner of my eye, saw him glance at his briefcase, saw his hand move toward it, but then his phone rang, and he stepped out of the kitchen to take the call. I quickly poured the shake into a mason jar instead of drinking it and sealed it tightly. More evidence. I have to go into the office early, Marcus said, coming back into the kitchen. Big meeting. Did you drink your shake? Almost done with it. I lied, gesturing to the empty glass I had in my hand. I had actually filled it with apple juice from the fridge. He smiled.

Actually smiled. Good girl. You need to keep your strength up. After he left, I threw up in the bathroom. Not from the pregnancy, but from pure revulsion.

Later that day, detective Sarah Morrison, no relation to Patricia apparently, came to meet with me at a coffee shop far from my neighborhood.

She was in her 40s, sharpeyed, and she didn’t waste time. “I’ve reviewed the evidence your attorney sent over,” she said. “This is serious, Mrs. Chen. We’re opening an investigation immediately, but I need you to understand something.

If Marcus or Jennifer suspect you know what they’re doing, you could be in immediate danger. Are you somewhere safe? I’m still at home. I didn’t want to raise suspicion by leaving suddenly.” I understand, but Emily, and I’m calling you Emily, because we’re past formalities here. These people are planning to kill you probably within the next few weeks before or during your delivery. You can’t stay in that house.

But if I leave now, won’t that tip them off? We’ll make it look natural. You’re seven months pregnant with a 4-year-old.

It’s completely reasonable for you to want to visit your sister for a few days. Get some help. Can you do that tonight? I thought about it. Melissa lived 4 hours away. Marcus knew about her, but hadn’t wanted me visiting her.

If I suddenly announced I was going, he won’t let me go, I said. He’ll find some reason why I can’t. Then we’ll give him a reason he can’t argue with. I’ll have my partner call your husband this afternoon. We’ll say we’re investigating a series of burglaries in your neighborhood and recommend that pregnant women and young children stay with family temporarily for safety just for a few days. That gives you a legitimate reason to leave. It was a good plan, but there was still the Tyler problem. What about my son? His adoption. Marcus’ father said they’ll fight for custody.

Detective Morrison leaned forward.

Emily, when your husband goes to prison for attempted murder and when his girlfriend is investigated for possibly killing her first husband, the Chen family’s claims on Tyler are going to look very different. Judges don’t award custody to families with active criminals in them. You’ll be fine. That afternoon, everything happened quickly.

Detective Morrison’s partner, a friendly sounding officer named Detective Rodriguez, called Marcus at work. I heard Marcus’ side of the conversation.

A burglary pattern in our neighborhood?

I see. Yes, she’s pregnant and we have a young son. You really think it’s necessary? All right. All right. I’ll talk to her. When Marcus called me, he actually sounded concerned. Emily, the police just called. There’s been a series of break-ins in the area. They’re targeting homes during the day. They suggested you and Tyler might want to stay with family for a few days until they catch the guy. Oh, no. Really?

Maybe I should call Melissa. Yeah, that’s probably smart. I don’t want you and Tyler here alone while I’m at work.

When can you leave? I can pack tonight and drive to her place tomorrow morning.

Good. That’s good. I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe. The irony of that statement almost made me laugh. That night, I packed carefully. clothes for me and Tyler, important documents, my evidence file hidden in Tyler’s diaper bag, and the mason jar with the poisoned shake. I acted cheerful around Marcus, thanking him for being so concerned about our safety. He was especially affectionate that evening. He rubbed my feet, asked how I was feeling, talked about names for the baby. It was surreal, like talking to the man I thought I married, not the man who had been poisoning me. Before bed, he made me one more shake for the road tomorrow, he said. Keep your energy up for the drive. I took it upstairs and poured it into by another mason jar when he wasn’t looking. The next morning, Marcus helped me load the car. He kissed me goodbye, hugged Tyler, put his hand on my belly.

“Take care of my girls,” he said. “Your girls?” I repeated, surprised. He had been so dismissive about the pregnancy being a girl. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking maybe having a daughter won’t be so bad.

She can marry well. Bring another good family into our legacy.” He smiled. “As long as we have those five sons, too.” I drove away feeling numb. He was already planning to control our daughter’s life, marry her off for family benefit, and he still expected me to have five more sons. None of that was going to happen.

I called Detective Morrison once I was an hour away. I’m out. I’m driving to my sisters. Good. Stay there. We’re moving forward with the investigation. We should have enough for an arrest warrant within 48 hours. We’re also bringing Jennifer in for questioning about her first husband’s death. What happens now?

Now you stay safe. Take care of yourself and your son. Let us handle the rest.

But things didn’t go as planned. That evening, Melissa’s doorbell rang. It was Marcus. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my heart pounding. Tyler was upstairs watching cartoons, and Melissa had gone to the grocery store. I wanted to check on you, Marcus said, stepping inside without being invited. Make sure you got here safely. I’m fine. You didn’t need to drive all this way. 4 hours isn’t that far. He looked around Melissa’s modest apartment. His lip curled slightly. This is where you’re staying. There’s barely room for you.

Let alone Tyler too. It’s fine for a few days until the police catch that burglar. About that, Marcus sat down on the couch. I called the police station back to get an update. They seemed confused. Said Detective Rodriguez wasn’t working any burglary case in our neighborhood. My blood went cold. That’s weird. I managed to say. Maybe there was a miscommunication. Yeah, maybe. He stood up and walked toward me. Or maybe someone’s been lying to me. Marcus, where are my protein powder and your vitamin bottles, Emily? I noticed they weren’t in your luggage when I was loading the car. I I must have forgotten them. You forgot the vitamins you take religiously every single day. The shakes you depend on for energy. He took another step closer. What’s really going on? I back toward the kitchen, trying to keep distance between us. I don’t know what you mean. I think you do. I think you’ve been snooping through my things.

I think you found my emails. Maybe even the insurance policies. His voice was calm, almost conversational. That’s what made it terrifying. The question is, what are you planning to do about it?

Marcus, you need to leave or what?

You’ll call the police. Go ahead, call them. Tell them what exactly. That your husband bought life insurance. That he had an affair. That he wanted you to take vitamins. He was right. Even with all my evidence, without the police investigation being complete, it would be his word against mine. And he had his family’s lawyers on speed dial. I know about the penny royal oil, I said quietly. I had the liquid from your bottle tested. Marcus’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. What bottle? The brown bottle in your briefcase. The one you’ve been putting in my drinks every morning.

I have video footage of you doing it, and I have lab results proving what it is. For a long moment, he just stared at me. Then, incredibly, he started laughing. You think you’re so smart, he said. You and your little investigation.

Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you’ve been acting strangely? That I wouldn’t figure out you were planning something? The police know everything.

No, they don’t. Because you haven’t shown them everything yet. I checked. No charges have been filed. No arrest warrant issued. You’re still gathering evidence, building your case, which means I still have time. Time for what?

He pulled something from his jacket pocket. A small syringe filled with clear liquid. This is a concentrated dose, enough to cause a fatal reaction within hours. Tragic, really. You came to your sister’s house. You were stressed about the burglaries. You went into early labor and there were complications. These things happen with high- risk pregnancies. I ran. I made it to the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife I could find from the block on the counter. Stay back, Emily. Don’t be dramatic. Just make this easy for Tyler’s sake. Do you really want him to find you? Because I will catch you eventually. This house isn’t that big.

Where was Melissa? How long did grocery shopping take? I heard the front door open. M. I’m back. They were out of the Oh my god. Melissa dropped her grocery bags when she saw Marcus holding the syringe and me with the knife. Call 911.

I screamed, but Marcus moved fast. He grabbed Melissa’s phone from her hand and threw it across the room where it shattered against the wall. Then he locked the front door. Now, he said, turning back to me. Let’s all calm down and talk about this. rationally.

“There’s nothing rational about trying to kill your wife,” Melissa said, her voice shaking. “I’m protecting my family’s legacy. Emily doesn’t understand the pressure I’m under. My father, my grandfather, they built an empire. I have responsibilities.” And Emily was going to ruin everything by leaving me, taking Tyler, turning our daughter against me. “So, your solution was to murder her?” Melissa asked incredulously. “It’s not murder if it looks like natural causes,” Marcus said matterof factly. “Women die in childbirth all the time, especially with pre-existing complications. The penny royal would have caused just enough damage to make it believable. Liver failure, pregnancy complications, tragic but natural. He was insane. Actually, insane. And he was talking about it so casually, like he was discussing a business plan. Marcus, I said carefully, trying to keep my voice steady. Think about Tyler. He’s upstairs. He could come down any second. Do you want him to see this? Something in Marcus’ expression shifted. Tyler, he’s a good boy. Smart. He’ll understand someday why I had to do this. He’ll take over the business. Carry on the Chen name. He won’t want anything to do with you if you hurt me. He’ll get over it. Children are resilient. That’s when I heard it.

Sirens in the distance getting closer.

Marcus heard them, too. His eyes widened. You called them already. When?

Before you got here? Melissa said. Emily texted me that you showed up. I called 911 from the grocery store parking lot before I came in. It was a lie. Melissa hadn’t known Marcus was there, but it worked. Marcus panicked. He lunged at me with the syringe. I dodged, but I was 7 months pregnant and not exactly agile.

He caught my arm, tried to press the needle against my skin. That’s when Melissa grabbed the cast iron skillet from the stove and hit Marcus over the head. He went down hard, the syringe rolling across the floor. Melissa kicked it away and grabbed me, pulling me toward the door. Tyler, I screamed. We need to get Tyler. I ran upstairs, well, waddled as fast as I could, and grabbed Tyler from the bedroom where he was still watching cartoons, completely oblivious to what had happened downstairs. Mama, where are we going?

We’re leaving, baby. Hold on tight. By the time we got outside, three police cars were pulling up. Detective Morrison jumped out of one of them. He’s inside, I gasped. He tried to inject me with something. He confessed everything. Two officers ran into the house. Marcus was still on the floor, dazed from the skillet it hit. They handcuffed him and dragged him out to the car. As they passed me, Marcus looked at me with such hatred I actually stepped back. “This isn’t over,” he said. “My family will destroy you. You’ll never see Tyler again. They’ll make sure of that.” “Actually,” Detective Morrison said, stepping forward, “your is going to be pretty busy dealing with their own legal problems. See, when we started investigating you, we found some interesting financial records. Seems the Chen family real estate business has been involved in some questionable dealings. Money laundering, tax evasion, fraud. The FBI is very interested in talking to your father. Marcus’ face went pale. And your girlfriend Jennifer, she was arrested 2 hours ago. Seems when we started asking questions about her first husband’s death, a few things came to light, like the fact that she had taken out multiple life insurance policies on him, too. And witnesses who saw her buying penny royal oil from an herbal shop. She’s been quite talkative, actually, trying to make a deal. She told us a lot about your little plan. I watched as they put Marcus in the police car. This man I had married who I thought I knew was a complete stranger, a monster. The next few weeks were a blur. Marcus was charged with attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and a dozen other charges. Jennifer was charged with murder in the first degree for killing her first husband and conspiracy charges related to the plot against me. Both were denied bail. The Chen family tried to fight for custody of Tyler as Robert had threatened. But with Marcus in prison and the FBI investigation revealing massive fraud in the family business, the judge wasn’t sympathetic. Robert and his wife were actually charged as accessories after the fact. They had known about Marcus’ affair and his plans to divorce me, and there was evidence they had encouraged him. I gave birth 6 weeks later. A healthy baby girl. I named her Hope Tyler. Adjusted surprisingly well. He was young enough that we could explain things in simple terms. Daddy made bad choices and had to go away. He was sad at first, but with therapy and lots of love from Melissa and Rebecca, and even my parents, who I reconnected with after years of Marcus keeping us apart, he started to heal. The divorce was finalized while Marcus was awaiting trial. I got full custody of both children, the house, which I immediately sold, and a settlement from the Chen family to drop any civil claims. It was enough money to start over somewhere new. But the strangest part came 6 months after Marcus was arrested. I got a letter from him in prison. Emily, I know you probably hate me. You have every right to. I’ve had a lot of time to think in here, and I’ve realized how wrong I was. Not just wrong, sick. I let my family’s expectations and my own ambitions turn me into someone I don’t recognize. Don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But I want you to know that I’m glad you found out. I’m glad you stopped me because I would have done it. I would have killed you. The mother of my children. The woman I once loved.