My wife had gone on countless business trips abroad over the past two years, and I never gave it much thought.

Until that night when I opened an old social media app I hadn’t touched in ages, just to transfer some files.

By pure chance, I noticed she had been liking posts from a certain account every single night.

The username looked eerily familiar. It was one she had used before.

The tone was unmistakably hers, and even the IP address matched exactly.

That’s when it hit me: she had a secret alternate account.

On that account, she had recorded every tender moment she spent with her first love.

The more I read, the colder my heart became.

Each post was like a dagger, twisting deeper with every word.

And then I saw it: she wrote about having had six abortions for her first love.

And by the tenth time, she decided to keep the baby.

It felt like lightning had torn straight through my chest.

——

We had been together for ten years.

Even before we got married, she made her rules crystal clear:

No unprotected sex. No kissing. And absolutely no children.

Her reasoning was simple. She said it stemmed from a mix of physical and psychological obsession with cleanliness.

And I agreed to everything she asked.

For ten years, not once did she waver.

Not even a hug. Not even holding hands. Every attempt at closeness was quietly pushed away.

Back then, I truly believed she had OCD. But reality hit me like a sledgehammer.

That night, I got a call from my wife.

“Honey, I was supposed to come back tonight, but something came up last minute, so I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Normally, I wouldn’t have thought twice.

I would’ve trusted Maisie Renner without hesitation, told her to be careful, and left it at that.

But this time, something felt different. There was a tight knot twisting in my chest.

I wanted to talk, truly talk, but I swallowed it down and gave a simple reply.

“Hmm.”

I was about to hang up when she asked gently, “Honey, what’s wrong? Something bothering you?”

“No, I’m just tired today. Gonna rest early.”

“Okay, take care of your body.”

After hanging up, I sat in front of my computer and closed my eyes, trying to calm my thoughts.

Not long after, that hidden account came online. Two posts appeared back to back.

The first one read, [Finally back in the country. I can finally eat the hometown food I’ve been craving.]

The second one made my heart clench.

[Sharing this food with the person I love most; this is life’s greatest happiness.]

I tried to convince myself it was just a coincidence.

Until I saw the account’s location, my lips curled into a bitter smile.

Marquess Road. Renner Corporation Tower.

The very building where both of us worked.

She must’ve gone to the office first, then posted a string of photos.

In those pictures, she rested in Luca Vance’s arms, gently cradling her pregnant belly, her smile softer and brighter than anything I’d seen in the past ten years.

I quietly shut the browser, unwilling to take in another frame.

I never expected betrayal to strike so abruptly.

Even worse, it had gone on for eight full years.

The next morning, I showed up to work as if nothing had happened.

But the stares from my subordinates were hard to miss. Their whispers swirled around me, part mockery, part pity.

“Did you hear? President Renner is pregnant, and that baby might not even be Weston’s!”

“No way! Where’d you hear something like that?!”

“Shh! Don’t talk so loud! What if he hears you?”

“What’s he gonna do? He’s just a live-in son-in-law, living off her anyway.”

I chose to ignore them, but I wasn’t deaf.

Maisie’s return must’ve leaked somehow. Something wasn’t right.

I called my assistant over. “Find out who’s spreading these rumors.”

Even the assistant gave me a strange look.

“President Blackwood, this... doesn’t look like a rumor.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

The assistant pulled out her phone, opened Instagram, and handed me the photo. Right there on the screen, a photo of Maisie and Luca, fingers laced, walking hand in hand.

The caption read, [With you two in my life, I need nothing more.]

I knew exactly who the “you two” were: Luca and the child in her womb.

What I didn’t expect was that, after just one night back in the country, she had already made it public, ruthlessly casting me, her rightful husband, into the shadows.

Because of that post, I became the laughingstock of the entire company.

My assistant hesitated before asking cautiously, “President Blackwood, do you still want us to investigate?”

“There’s no need. Get back to work,” I said, my voice low and cold.

The image from that post flashed through my mind again. I had never felt torment so sharp, so humiliating.

That afternoon, there was a mandatory meeting for all department heads.

Not long after I took my seat, Maisie walked in.

Every pair of eyes shifted toward me, quietly waiting, eager to read, even a flicker of reaction on my face.

After sharing that post with the whole world, Maisie could still walk up to me like nothing had happened.

She smiled sweetly and asked, “Honey, did you sleep well last night?”

I sneered inwardly, tempted to say, “Not really.”

But this was a public setting. Airing dirty laundry wasn’t my style.

So I replied with calm indifference, “Not too bad.”

Maisie caught the coolness in my tone and frowned slightly, but she didn’t push further.

Instead, she leaned in gently and said, “Focus on the meeting. I’ve prepared a surprise for you afterward.”

A surprise or a blow?

I studied her quietly. She was stunning, sensual confidence carved into every inch of her.

Just standing there, she effortlessly stole the attention of every man in the room.

I used to wonder how I ever won her heart. Now, the answer was painfully obvious: in her eyes, I had always been the fool.

Eight years of lies, and I had still given her every ounce of devotion.

Throughout the meeting, the whispers never stopped, soft laughter and hushed gossip circling like flies.

Then, near the end, Maisie stepped forward with a graceful calm and took the podium.

She smiled and said, “I have an announcement to make about me and Weston.”

She stood beside me, gently took my hand, and smiled.

Then, with practiced grace, she lifted the microphone and announced to the entire room, “I’m pregnant. Very soon, Weston Blackwood will become a father.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

Eyes darted from one face to another, some wide with surprise, others gleaming with speculation.

That social media post had come directly from her. No one could deny it.

And now, here she was, making it public.

To outsiders, it looked like I was being joyfully swept into fatherhood.

But I remained still.

Her smile faltered slightly, clearly annoyed by my indifference.

“Weston, this is our child. Shouldn’t you at least look happy?”

Expressionless, I met her gaze and replied, “Hmm. Congratulations.”

“What kind of attitude is that? I know how much you’ve wanted a child for years! That’s why I kept it a secret, so I could surprise you!”

“A surprise? You sure it wasn’t just to make me sick?”

First, the post. Then, the public announcement. And now this.

Honestly, I no longer understood what Maisie was trying to do.

She suddenly exploded.

“Weston, do you have any idea how disappointed I am in you? These ten years with you. They’ve been the biggest mistake of my life!”

“Oh, right. Being with Luca would’ve been the perfect choice. I was just the fool who ruined your happiness.”

“You. What are you even talking about?”

Maisie’s gaze faltered, and her voice carried a guilt she could no longer hide.

I pulled out my phone, opened her Instagram feed, and showed it to her.

“Did you really think I’d never check your Instagram?”

She had mistaken her main account for her burner, meant to post the sweet, intimate nonsense with Luca on one and the child announcement with me on the other.

But now that I’d seen it, she didn’t bother pretending anymore.

“Yes, fine. I did get involved with Luca. But do you really think I did it for myself? I did it for the company, for our future!”

I nodded, lips curling into a cold smile.

“How noble. All for the future, right?”

“Are you going to tell me next the child is mine? That you’ll even give him my last name?”

“Why not? Since you can’t have children, he can call you Dad.”

I laughed, stunned by the sheer absurdity.

She, who came from wealth with an elite education, had said something so twisted, so shameless.

It was so outrageous that I couldn’t even find the words to respond.

Maisie pressed on, trying to soften me, “Weston, stop being so stubborn. We still have a long future ahead.”

“Do you even remember why I said I didn’t want children?”

“Because you can’t have any. That’s why the child in my belly will care for you when you’re old.”

She ended it there as if that sealed the deal. For ten years, she claimed she was obsessed with cleanliness, and I respected that boundary, never touching her.

She said she didn’t want kids, and I immediately agreed.

But what I thought was a reluctant compromise to her meant I was infertile.

Love really did blind people.

But the one she loved now wasn’t me.

Or maybe, never had been.

I turned to leave the meeting room, but she suddenly grabbed my arm and asked, “Weston, what’s wrong with you today? Why are you acting so cold?”

“What do you expect? That I’d welcome another man’s child with open arms?”

“I already said he’ll call you Dad someday.”

“No thanks.”

I pulled away and headed for the door without a backward glance.

Just then, Luca walked in and crashed into my shoulder hard enough to stagger me.

I nearly lost my balance from the sudden hit.

He gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

He reached out his hand, but I ignored it.

As I was about to leave, Maisie hurried over, concern flashing in her eyes.

“Luca, are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“Maisie, I’m not that fragile.”

“But you just got out of the hospital…”

Maisie glared at me sharply.

“There’s a whole person standing right at the door, and you didn’t even see him?!”

I froze. Wait, I was the one who got bumped.

He clearly did it on purpose, yet now I was the one being blamed?

Luca quickly tried to calm things down.

“Maisie, don’t be mad. It was my fault, nothing to do with Weston.”

“Why are you defending him? I’m not blind. I saw everything clearly.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s my fault, alright?”

At that moment, I truly saw how irrational Maisie had become.

The man in front of me, her affair partner, was being openly defended in the meeting room.

And I, the legal husband, was being pushed into the fire.

What was left to hold on to in this so-called love?

“Oh, so I’ve been too nice to you, huh? Just a few words, and now you’re upset?”

“You make money from the Renner family, and now you dare throw a tantrum at me?”

“You think I’ve been living off their money? Then what about everything I’ve done for the Renner family?”