Dexter and I met in college.

After one of our post-graduation reunions, he started pursuing me.

Six months later, we were officially together.

On our first anniversary, he proposed, and I said yes.

Dexter came from a small town and wasn't well-off.

When we got married, he gave me $6,000 as a wedding gift and a lot of empty promises.

My parents, wanting to make sure I'd be comfortable in his family, bought me a house and a car before the wedding and even gave me $30,000 as part of the marriage.

After the wedding, Dexter said he was focused on advancing his career and wanted to wait before having kids.

I agreed.

But his mom constantly threw jabs, calling me a hen that couldn't lay eggs.

Dexter always told me to put up with it for his sake.

So, I endured it.

At the beginning of this year, I finally got pregnant.

But his mom said she had a fortune teller check and claimed I was carrying a girl. She told me to get rid of it.

I refused. Boy or girl, it was still my child.

Dexter was away on business at the time, so his mom started causing trouble.

She spiked my soup with things like herbs that induce blood circulation or drugs meant to halt the baby's development.

I noticed a persistent dull ache in my lower abdomen and immediately went to the hospital.

The doctor said it was a good thing the dosage was small and that I caught it in time; otherwise, the situation could've been much worse.

After I was discharged, I moved back to my parents' place and called Dexter to tell him what happened.

He came back the next day.

I was touched, thinking he dropped everything for me.

That afternoon, Dexter came to pick me up from my parents' house.

He knelt down in tears, apologizing and saying he'd sent his mom back to her hometown and even hired a nanny to take care of me.

I softened and agreed to go back with him.

Looking back, his mom wasn't going home—she was probably off taking care of his mistress.

After that, Dexter's business trips became more frequent.

He claimed that with the baby coming soon, he had to work harder to make sure we'd have a good life.

But yesterday, I tripped at home and was rushed to the hospital by my friend.

In the maternity ward, I saw Dexter, who was supposedly on a business trip, and his mom, who was supposedly back home, walking out of the doctor's office, all smiles.

"Babe, I'm sorry I'm late. How are you feeling?"

Dexter's sudden appearance snapped me out of my thoughts.

Looking at the guilty expression on his face, a wave of anger and pain surged inside me.

I once trusted him so much. I relied on him and yet he betrayed me while I was pregnant.

Thinking about how far along Elsa was in that video, she might've even gotten pregnant before me.

I gritted my teeth, trying to suppress the rage building up inside.

"Babe, I really couldn't get away yesterday. I'm sorry. You can hit me if it'll make you feel better."

He even leaned his face closer as he said it.

Seeing that fake expression, I couldn't hold back anymore and slapped him with all my strength.

Smack—*

The unexpected slap darkened Dexter's expression.

I lowered my head and squeezed out a few tears.

Then I looked up at him with a pitiful face and said, "I'm sorry, honey. I just couldn't control myself. I was on the brink of death, and you weren't there. I really couldn't hold it in."

Guilt flashed across Dexter's face.

Even though it was brief, I caught it.

He reached out to hug me, repeating his apologies.

"Rachel, that jerk and his mistress have—"

Sara started speaking as she pushed open the door but immediately went silent when she saw Dexter.

"What jerk and mistress?" Dexter asked.

"Sara saw some gossip trending this morning—something about a scumbag and his mistress being spotted at a hospital for a prenatal check-up and getting caught by the wife."

I blinked innocently, only telling half the truth.

"Honey, you'd never do something like that, right?"

Dexter's smile froze for a brief moment before he quickly recovered and said, "How could I ever do something like that? You know I'd never hurt you—I love you more than anything.

Just then, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and said it was his boss calling, then stepped out to take it.

Once Dexter was out of earshot, Sara leaned in and whispered, "That mistress switched hospitals. I asked around, and a nurse told me they had transferred her last night. She's about to give birth any day now."

I let out a bitter laugh. "I almost believed they were that bold."

Sara also told me she'd hired a private investigator to look into them.

I stayed silent for a moment, then squeezed her hand and whispered, "Thank you."

Sara hugged me gently and said, "You've still got me."

Just as I got my emotions in check, Dexter walked back in.

Looking anxious, he said, "Babe, I'm so sorry. There's an emergency at work, and I have to go back right away."

I gave him a gracious smile and told him it was fine, urging him to hurry back.

He gave me an apologetic hug and rushed out.

The moment he left, Sara quickly sent a message to the investigator.

...

Around 7 p.m., just as my parents were dropping off dinner, the investigator's message came in.

It was a photo—Dexter standing outside a delivery room, holding a newborn in his arms, with his mom beaming next to him.

The caption read: 6:30 p.m., the woman gave birth to a baby boy.

As I stared at the picture of Dexter holding that child, I couldn't help but think of my own daughter still in the NICU. My anger flared like never before.

I replied, instructing the investigator to arrange a paternity test for Dexter and that baby. If it worked out, they would be well rewarded.

"Rachel, where's Dexter? Didn't he visit today?" My dad asked, clearly annoyed at his absence.

I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words to explain.

Sara couldn't stand it any longer and bluntly told my parents everything about Dexter's affair and how the mistress had also given birth today.

She even showed them the photos on her phone.

My dad's face turned red with rage. "That bastard Dexter Young, he's such a scumbag!"

My mom's eyes welled up with tears as she held me close. "My poor girl, you've suffered enough. We're getting you out of this marriage. You don't deserve this."

I patted my mom's back, trying to make my voice sound strong.

"Mom, I've already made up my mind. I'm going to handle this.

"I won't leave him with a dime—not the money, the house, or my daughter."

Dad chimed in, comforting my mom, "Our girl's grown up. She knows how to deal with this."

Mom gripped my hand tightly, telling me that no matter how old I get, I'll always be her little girl.

I nodded and squeezed her hand back.