The moment Linda saw her grandson, her face lit up. She scooped the little boy into her arms.

"Noah's here! Come here and let Grandma give you kisses."

I sat there without moving a muscle.

I'd never really looked at Ryan's face before. Jessica had done a damn good job keeping him hidden.

They were all playing happy family. And the sickest part? Jessica was still carrying my child.

"Jessica, is this your idea of 'making things right'? The way you explained it to me before? Was it fun lying to me for five years?"

Everyone in the room went pale.

Ryan pulled the boy close, his face tight with tension. "I can take the hit, but my son can't. He's Jessica's biological child. He's also Linda's grandson. If you won't let him through that door, then as far as Noah's concerned, he doesn't have a mother anymore!"

He said it like he was the one being wronged. Like I was the bully.

Ryan stormed out with the boy without another word.

Jessica scrambled to her feet, ignoring the discomfort of her pregnant belly, and chased after him.

Linda shot me a vicious glare. Then she picked up the contract and slapped it right in my face.

"Michael, a million dollars ought to buy the rest of your life, don't you think? That boy is coming into this family. You stay out of it."

I watched the two of them walk away, feeling dazed. I bent down and picked up the torn pieces of the agreement.

All it asked for, on top of the money, was for me to play dumb. Keep my mouth shut. Stay out of whatever was going on between Jessica and Ryan.

My chest tightened. I shredded the papers.

I never imagined Jessica had been hiding this from me for five agonizing years.

It happened three months after we got married. I'd just come home from a business trip.

I walked in and the place was destroyed. Clothes torn to shreds. Underwear everywhere. Strange stains on the carpet.

And there, in our bed, lay Jessica and some naked guy I'd never seen before.

I couldn't process it. I couldn't accept it.

Jessica grabbed a blanket, stumbled to her knees, and wrapped her arms around my legs. Her voice shook as she begged.

"Michael, please believe me—I was drunk, I thought he was you. I didn't mean to. I really didn't."

She was rambling, her hands pressed together like she was praying. She kept explaining over and over.

"I'll never drink again. Just don't divorce me. I'll do anything. Anything you want."

It got back to her mother, too. That day, Linda slapped her own daughter across the face more than a dozen times. The old woman bent at the waist, head lowered, apologizing to me.

"Michael, she made one mistake. But she still loves you."

I didn't want to hear any of it. I just wanted out.

When Jessica saw that I wasn't changing my mind, she climbed up to the window ledge and threatened to jump.

"If you divorce me, I'll throw myself off this ledge right now. Because without you, I don't want to live."

That sentence broke me. That sentence made me cave.

I couldn't watch her do something like that. So I pulled her down from that ledge.

"Fine. No divorce. But there won't be a second time."

Even after that, I couldn't just shake what happened. The wound was still there. But she tried so hard to make it up to me. She put everything she had at my feet. The house. The cars. Company shares. Everything.

Even my friends were jealous.

"Michael, what did you do in a past life to land a wife like that?"

As the years went by, people around us got married and divorced one after another. They started betting on us. How many more years would Michael and Jessica last?

Then she told me she had to spend a year overseas for work. We video-called every day. She knew I had trust issues, so sometimes she'd fly back just to see me. She always said, "Don't put your career on hold because of me."

I really believed we were going to grow old together.

But I didn't know that all her busyness, all her "business trips," were just so she could have someone else's baby.

And I was the only fool who believed her for five years.

Tears blurred my vision. I wiped the corner of my eye.

I looked down at the divorce papers on the table—already signed by Jessica.

Silently, I picked them up.

Fine. If that's what she wanted, I'd give them what they asked for.

Jessica and Linda went ahead and brought Ryan and the boy back to the house.

Linda hovered protectively over her precious grandson. "As long as I'm alive, Noah is my grandson. I won't let anyone bully him."

Her eyes kept darting toward me, guarded and suspicious.

Ryan caught her meaning. A flicker of smugness crossed his face. Gone was the uncertainty from before. He puffed out his chest.

"Don't worry, Michael. I'm not trying to take your place. I just want my son to be able to stay close to his mother. I don't want Noah to grow up with the stigma of being labeled a bastard."

I curled my lip, unable to hide the sarcasm. "That label wouldn't be undeserved. No matter what you do, that fact isn't going to change."

Ryan's face went pale. He turned to Jessica with a wounded look.

Jessica frowned. "Michael, where are your manners?"

Her cold words made my heart clench. My hands hung limp at my sides, uselessly gripping and releasing. My voice came out dry and cracked. "Five years ago, I said there wouldn't be a second time…"

Jessica rubbed her son's palm absently and answered in a careless tone. "I already signed the divorce papers. I'm not stopping you from leaving. But have you forgotten? I'm still carrying your child."

She rested her hand on her swollen belly.

"Michael, I just want to bring Noah home. He's only five years old. He can't grow up without his mother. Can you please stop being so petty? Besides, wouldn't it be nice for our child to have an older brother?"

She didn't seem to think she'd done anything wrong. Her casual, breezy words snuffed out the last shred of hope I had left.

Before I could respond, she added, "Mom and I already talked it over. We're throwing a party next week. We're going to have Noah officially recognize you as his godfather. That way, people will stop talking."

I swallowed the ache rising in my chest. I couldn't believe she'd already thought that far ahead.

"I won't agree to that."

Jessica let out a short, mocking laugh. "Fine. Then I'll go to the hospital right now and get an abortion."

My head snapped up. I shouted, "Are you out of your mind?! The baby's not even eight months yet!"

Jessica's face stayed perfectly calm, but her words were brutal. "I'm the mother. I have that right. If it's born, it's a child. If it's not born yet, it's just a clump of cells. So you think it over. Either Noah becomes your godson, or I go to the hospital."

She turned and left with Ryan and Noah without another word.

For a long time after that, we didn't speak at all. She didn't come home.

Maybe because everything was finally out in the open, Jessica started posting on social media constantly—something she never used to do. Most of the posts were pictures of her with Ryan and Noah.

Even the captions were suggestive, making it look like the three of them were the real family.

Friends who saw her posts started calling me, trying to figure out what was going on.

[Michael, who's that guy in Jessica's photos? And that kid—he looks just like her. Please tell me that's not…]

[And who's the man?]

I didn't have the energy to answer any of their questions.

Only the friends who knew what had happened five years ago tried to warn me. "Are you and Jessica having problems? I told you back then—you never should have forgiven her. Once a cheater, always a cheater."

I gave a bitter smile. Everyone else could see it so clearly.

Only I had been stupid enough not to.

A week passed quickly.

The party to welcome Noah into the family was a lavish affair. Almost every big name in our social circle showed up.

Jessica looped her arm through mine and muttered a low warning in my ear. "You've had plenty of time to think this through. Don't cause any trouble today."

I didn't answer. I didn't even look at her.

Then the five-year-old boy came up and took my hand. Right in front of all the guests, he called me "Dad."

That's when I finally spoke.

"I'm not your father. And I will not accept you as my son."

The room erupted.

Guests exchanged glances, and suddenly, the unspoken clicked into place. The looks people gave Jessica were full of mockery.

Her face flushed, then went pale. Humiliated, she grabbed my wrist. "What are you doing?"

"If you don't accept Noah today, I will go to the hospital right now."

Her tone was absolute. I couldn't believe it. A mother, saying something like that. She knew better than anyone how hard this pregnancy had been—all those bitter herbal drinks, all those shots to keep the baby from miscarrying. And now, for the sake of a child born out of wedlock, she was ready to throw it away.

"I'm not raising another man's son."

Across the room, Ryan put on a wounded face.

And then, out of nowhere, the screens around the hall flickered to life.

Graphic photos of Jessica and Ryan in bed together started scrolling across every display.

The timestamps on the photos were from five years ago.

Chaos erupted.

Jessica froze, staring at the screens.

Ryan immediately pointed a finger at me, his face turning red. "Michael! I know you have a problem with me, but how could you put pictures like that up in front of all these people?!

"Fine! Yes, I was wrong five years ago. Jessica got drunk and mistook me for you. But what does that have to do with anything now? No matter how angry you are, you can't deny that Noah is Jessica's biological son."

His little speech made everything crystal clear to everyone in the room.

"Ohhh, so the kid's a bastard. That explains a lot."

"Well, this certainly is entertainment."

Muffled laughter rippled through the crowd.

Jessica scrambled to have the screens turned off. Then she drew back her hand and slapped me across the face.

The taste of blood filled my mouth. I felt dazed.

I looked up and met Jessica's eyes—full of pure hatred. Her chest was heaving with rage. She clutched her cramping stomach, her face twisted in pain.

Linda immediately called an ambulance.

By the time they got Jessica to the hospital, she was ghostly pale.

The doctor was about to give her medication to stop the contractions and save the pregnancy. That's when Jessica spoke.

"Help me get an abortion. I don't want this baby anymore."

My head went blank.

"I didn't put those photos up!"

Jessica gave a cold, tight smile. "It doesn't matter if you did or not, Michael. I just want you to learn a lesson. I want you to never dare to hurt them again."

I thought about the baby. Our daughter. I lowered my head and begged. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have done that. The baby is innocent. That's a life…"

But no amount of begging made a difference.

Jessica went into the operating room. They induced the labor. The baby was born dead.

My daughter never even got to open her eyes and see the world.

I covered my face and laughed and cried at the same time. I tucked the signed divorce papers into Jessica's bag.

Then I left the hospital, carrying my dead daughter in my arms.

Five years ago, looking back was what put me in this hell. This time, I wasn't going to look back again.