When Love Dies And Memories Fade

To save my grandmother, I married a man who hated me. He never knew I was the one who secretly saved his life with a bone marrow donation. And when my grandmother lay dying, he refused to pay for the surgery that would have saved her.

He called it another one of my "dramas," laughing as my last hope died.

But he didn't just kill my grandmother. He killed our child, too.

I was secretly pregnant, part of a billion-dollar surrogacy deal to get the money for her care. When I begged him, showing him the ultrasound, his reply was cold.

"Get rid of it."