Burned Alive While Pregnant

When I was five months pregnant, Cole's childhood sweetheart came to my house, provoked a fight, and set the place on fire.

I did not call Cole. Instead, I covered my nose and mouth with a wet towel and waited silently for rescue.

In my past life, the moment the fire started, I panicked and called him. I begged him to rush me to the hospital. He did. The baby survived, but Vanessa perished in the flames that very day.

He told me he did not blame me. He told me to rest easy in the maternity ward, even taking a leave of absence to care for me.

But on the day I gave birth, he showed his true face.

He dragged me and my newborn to Vanessa's grave. Right in front of my eyes, he ruthlessly took my baby's life. Then, he pushed me into a blazing inferno.

In my final moments, through the roaring flames, I saw his face twisted in demonic fury.

"If you hadn't started that fire, Vanessa would never have died! Did you really think playing the victim would fool me? Dream on! I am making you pay with your life!"

"You like starting fires so much? Then feel it for yourself. Feel the exact pain Vanessa felt before she died!"

My eyes snapped open. I was back in the burning house.

Thick, acrid smoke poured into my nostrils, sending me into a violent coughing fit. The searing pain yanked me completely out of my past life's memories.

I immediately pulled out my phone. But I did not call my husband, the heroic fire captain.

I dialed 911.

By the time the sirens wailed and the rescue team stormed in, I spotted Cole's familiar silhouette through the haze.

Only after I watched him scoop Vanessa into his arms and carry her out of the living room did I finally let out a cry for help to the other firefighters.

His crew thought I was throwing a tantrum. They glared at me through their visors, barking harsh reprimands.

Suddenly, a heavy wooden wall ornament broke loose. It crashed down, slamming brutally into my pregnant belly.

I coughed up a mouthful of blood right there on the floor. They did not even blink.

Biting down on my lip to endure the excruciating pain, I used every ounce of strength I had to crawl out of the burning house.

Outside, every single cooling blanket and oxygen tank was being used on Vanessa.

Cole could not even be bothered to look my way. He just cursed at me, saying I brought this entirely on myself.

Cold sweat drenched my trembling body. Blood spilled from the corners of my mouth. Deep inside, I could feel my baby's life rapidly slipping away.

In my past life, when the fire broke out, Vanessa and I had called him at the exact same time. For the sake of his unborn child, he chose to save me first. By the time he tried to go back inside, the flames had swallowed the structure. Vanessa was reduced to ashes.

He had told me it was okay. He had comforted me, telling me not to blame myself.

Yet, the moment I gave birth, he slaughtered my child.

"Rachel, do you know what it feels like to burn alive?" his voice had echoed. "I am going to make you suffer ten times the agony Vanessa went through!"

Given a second chance at life, I only wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.

I never expected him to be this ruthless. He would not even spare me a single piece of first-aid equipment.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark pool of blood spreading beneath my legs.

"Save my baby... please..." I begged, my vocal cords raw and torn.

The closest firefighter finally turned around. But his eyes were filled with nothing but mockery and disgust.

He nudged my leg with his heavy boot.

"Give it a rest, Cap's wife. We all know you hate Vanessa. We just didn't think you were crazy enough to commit arson while pregnant. Cap is already saving her. You can stop the act. Nobody is watching."

"Honestly, I kinda respect how far you will go for a man's attention. Too bad Cap only has eyes for Vanessa. You better pray she makes it out of this okay, or Cap is going to hand you divorce papers tomorrow!"

I always knew Cole did not love me. But I had no idea even his crew viewed me this way.

A violent, agonizing contraction ripped through my abdomen, stealing the last of my voice. The blistering heat had practically melted the skin off my arms.

The crew was busy putting out the flames. Not a single soul came to check on me.

As my consciousness began to fade, I heard a sudden gasp nearby.

"Whoa! Why is there so much blood over here? Crap, is Cap's wife actually hurt?"

"What could possibly be wrong with her? She is just trying to get Cap to look at her. She has been pulling these stunts all afternoon. Whatever, go get Cap just in case."

But I never received a shred of Cole's concern. All I got was his merciless interrogation.

A gloved hand slapped my cheek twice, hard.

"Rachel, wake up. Stop faking it. I am here."

"Are you completely out of your mind? You start a fire and end up burning yourself. Shooting yourself in the foot. Was it worth it?"

Even now, he genuinely believed I started the fire. He thought I was throwing a jealous, hysterical fit.

I wanted to explain. I wanted to scream. But my throat was bone dry.

My stomach felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside.

All I could do was reach out a trembling, bloodstained hand and grip his heavy turnout coat, praying he would finally realize I was dying.

He hesitated for a split second. Then, he pressed his hand down heavily onto my cramping abdomen.

"You put on a good show. If Vanessa hadn't already told me you set the fire and hid yourself on purpose, I almost would have believed you."

Dropping those words like ice, he turned his back and walked away without a second glance.

A heartbeat later, a terrified shout erupted from one of the rookies.

"Captain! Blood! She is bleeding out!"

"Is she having a miscarriage?!"

Cole's voice drifted back, cold and hollow. "Ignore her. Vanessa already told me. It is fake blood. She is five months along, she is not going to miscarry that easily. Let her act."

A final, blinding wave of agony washed over me. Everything went pitch black.

In my feverish dreams, I was pulled back to the days when Cole and I first met.

It was a college seminar. He sat there with an ice-cold expression, but his flawless technical skills and sharp mind captured the hearts of half the girls in the room.

I was no exception. It was love at first sight. I started asking around, desperate for any information about him.

Back then, I was just a junior lecturer. He barely noticed me.

To catch his eye, I worked harder than anyone else. After I finally secured my full-time position, I used the excuse of a celebration to invite him to dinner.

I noticed a subtle shift in the way he looked at me that night.

I seized the opportunity and chased him relentlessly. Flowers, basketball tickets, baked goods, artisan coffee. I gave him everything I had.

Finally, I got what I wanted. He accepted my confession.

I thought it was the beginning of my happily ever after. I had no idea it was the prologue to a nightmare.

After we got together, he grew colder and more distant. Every time we had a date, he was either swamped with work or called away on a sudden emergency dispatch.

I never doubted him. Not once. Until the day of our wedding.

An email from overseas completely shattered my fragile dream.

Vanessa had documented their ten-year entanglement in agonizing detail. Every timestamp, every photo, every shared memory felt like a blade twisting in my heart.

It turned out that every single time he broke a promise to me, he was spending his hours with another woman.

The most pathetic part? I didn't even have the courage to confront him. I was terrified he would leave me.

In my past life, when Vanessa died in the fire, he was so remarkably calm that I genuinely believed I had won. I thought I was the victor in this twisted love triangle.

He practically bought out every maternity store in the city for our baby. That sudden, overwhelming tsunami of love fried my brain. I completely lost my ability to think critically.

It was only when my child was slaughtered by his hands that the truth finally dawned on me.

He was not loving me with his life. He was meticulously planning my destruction.

The only woman he ever loved was Vanessa.

When I finally opened my eyes again, I was staring at the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room.

The face hovering over me did not belong to Cole. It was a complete stranger.

"You are awake? I am your downstairs neighbor. I was coming up to see how bad the fire was, and I found you lying on the grass all by yourself. I brought you here. How are you feeling?"

I tried to move my stiff, aching limbs. The moment my hands brushed my stomach, I froze.

The neighbor looked at me with deep pity. "I am so sorry. When we got here, the doctors said... they said they could not save the baby."

I forced a weak, bitter smile onto my cracked lips.

"It is not your fault. I know."

"Thank you for bringing me here."

Even a total stranger could tell at a glance that I was dying. Yet the man I had been married to for five years could not be bothered to look at me.

Seeing my numb despair, the neighbor grew more furious than I was.

"What the hell is wrong with that rescue squad? A pregnant woman is bleeding out on the ground, and they just ignore her?"

"If I hadn't come up to check, you would be dead right now! Where is your family? Where is the father?"

"Give me his number. I will call him right now. You need someone by your side."

"I already reported that firehouse to the city! People like that are a menace to society!"

I nodded slowly, my voice barely a raspy whisper.

"The baby's father is dead."

His face softened with profound sympathy. He offered to stay and take care of me until I was discharged.

I politely declined. I transferred the money for the hospital bills to his phone and urged him to go home.

The neighbor left, but the storm on the internet was just beginning to brew.

The hashtag "Fire Captain's Backyard on Fire" was inherently sensational. It was already trending at the top of every major social media platform.

My neighbor had posted photos of me collapsed in a pool of blood in the comment sections.

It sparked a massive public outcry. People were furious, questioning if the fire department only cared about putting out flames while turning a blind eye to a dying pregnant woman.

"If that is the case, they should just be called property savers, not a rescue squad," one top comment read.

I scrolled through the endless wave of outrage. Honestly, this kind of punishment felt far too light for Cole.

I opened my messaging app, planning to send him a text asking for a divorce.

Before I could type a word, a photo from Vanessa popped up on my screen.

She was admitted to the exact same hospital, just one floor below me.

In the photo, Cole was personally feeding her a bowl of soup, carefully blowing on the spoon so she wouldn't burn her tongue.

I had seen countless photos of their intimacy. Pictures like this no longer had the power to hurt me.

I calmly closed the chat and dialed Cole's number.

He finally picked up on the fifth try. His voice was laced with absolute irritation.

"You actually have the nerve to call me? What do you want? Checking to see if Vanessa is dead? Well, sorry to disappoint you! I pulled her out! She is alive and recovering right here in the hospital!"

"Rachel, I have known you for years, but I never thought you were capable of this. Do you realize what you did? That is attempted murder! Are you completely insane?"

"I am giving you exactly one hour. Crawl down to this room and apologize to her! Otherwise, we are getting a divorce!"

Before I could speak, Vanessa's soft, weeping voice echoed through the speaker.

"Cole, don't be mad at her. It is my fault. If she wants to say I started the fire, just let her. Don't argue with her. Pregnant women shouldn't get too stressed."

Cole let out a heavy sigh, his tone dripping with disappointment.

"You are just too kind. That is why she constantly walks all over you. We met first. Who the hell does Rachel think she is? What gives her the right to touch you?"

"Don't worry about it. I am making sure she learns her lesson this time!"

While they were busy playing star-crossed lovers, I spoke, my voice devoid of any emotion.

"Okay. Let's get a divorce. I agree. I will send the papers over shortly. Make sure you sign them."

Cole was clearly caught off guard. He never expected me to initiate the divorce.

A moment of stunned silence was followed by a sudden burst of rage. Before he could start screaming, I hung up.

Before I could block his number, a barrage of text messages flooded my screen.

"Where are you? Have you lost your damn mind today? I let your behavior slide because you are pregnant, and now you are pushing your luck?"

"You think having a baby means I won't drop you? I swear, when you go into labor and need a signature for the epidural, you will be crawling off that bed to beg me!"

"And take down those news posts online right now! Do not force me to expose your true colors to the public!"

I didn't bother reading the rest. I deleted the thread and blocked his number.

Even though I had paid for this lesson with blood in my past life, being betrayed by him again still caused a brief, involuntary twinge of pain in my chest.

A pair of nurses walked in to change my bandages. Oblivious to my expression, they gossiped freely.

"That guy downstairs is incredibly handsome. I have never seen a couple look so perfect together! I heard they were high school sweethearts. I am so jealous."

"You are behind on the news. I just heard that Mr. Sullivan actually paid the hospital cafeteria to reserve a private kitchen window. Just so he can personally cook for his precious wife every day!"

"I went down to change her dressings earlier, and he wouldn't even let me touch her. He insisted on doing it himself. True love is just beautiful!"

I stared blankly at the IV needle in the back of my hand.

The skin on my arm had peeled off, stinging and itching fiercely.

When the nurses finally left, I gasped for air like a drowning woman. But no matter how hard I breathed, the oxygen refused to fill my lungs.

That evening, the doctor came in. He told me the blunt trauma to my abdomen had caused severe internal damage. It would be nearly impossible for me to ever conceive again.

Hearing those words, my very first thought was sheer relief.

Thank God. Without a child, he or she would never have to suffer alongside me. An innocent life deserved a better world than this.

When the room was empty again, I checked the latest updates online.

The cyberbullying against the fire department had escalated to the point where the city officials had to step in and make a public statement.

However, the official explanation claimed the entire incident was staged by me.

They claimed I was driven by insane jealousy and intentionally caused harm. Not only did I waste precious city rescue resources, but I also dragged their decorated captain through the mud.

In the press conference video, the official urged the public to drop the matter, but every single word deliberately painted me as the villain.

To lend credibility to the video, Cole registered a verified account and posted a photo of our marriage certificate.

His actions hammered the final nail into my coffin.

The tidal wave of hatred instantly pivoted from the fire department and crashed down on me.

My personal social media accounts were breached, flooded with death threats, and eventually banned by the platforms. Any attempts I made to post the truth were instantly buried under an avalanche of vicious comments.

Over the next few days, I could feel the hostile glares of the hospital staff. If it weren't for their basic professional ethics, I am certain they would have thrown me out onto the street.

I received anonymous packages every day. Without fail, they were all death threats.

Through it all, I didn't say a single word in my defense.

On the day the doctor cleared me for discharge, I sent Cole one final text.

"Meet me at City Hall tomorrow. We are signing the papers."

He jumped on the opportunity to call me from a different number.

"What, finally coming out of hiding? You actually have the nerve to show your face? I warned you. I gave you a chance. You refused to take down the posts. Don't blame me for being ruthless now!"

"If Vanessa hadn't begged me to go easy on you, I would have had the cops arrest you by now! Fine, let's divorce. When that kid grows up without a father, don't come crying to me! It is your own fault you are turning him into a fatherless bastard!"

Before I could reply, he hung up on me.

I calmly opened the smart home app on my phone and downloaded the hidden camera footage from the living room on the day of the fire.