After Years, We Forget Each Other

When I found out I was pregnant for the fourth time, I rushed to Tristan Muller's office, clutching the pregnancy test slip in my trembling hand.

I hadn’t even knocked when I heard voices from inside, clear and unmistakable.

“Make sure the birth control pill isn’t harmful, okay? I promised Zara I wouldn’t touch Linda Weggy. If she ends up pregnant, that little girl will lose her mind.”

A low, disapproving voice responded, “Medicine is always toxic to some degree. It’s not completely harmless. I just don’t get it—Linda is your wife. Why are you chasing after a secretary?”

“You think I haven’t tried reasoning with her? I made her take pills and miscarry three times. At this rate, she’ll never be able to be a mother. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t need a reason to love someone.”

My heart froze.

Everything I thought was love and happiness had been a carefully constructed lie. Beneath our marriage lay betrayal and deceit, festering like an open wound.

——

Inside, Tristan scrolled through luxury jewelry on his phone, a rare smile softening his usually sharp features.

“How about this one?” he said indulgently. “Zara’s wanted it for a long time. It’ll look gorgeous on her with her fair skin.”

Across from him, Marco Qale, a respected gynecologist and his close friend, sighed heavily.

“Jewelry that expensive would look good on anyone. But tell me this—after five years of marriage, have you ever bought anything like that for Linda?”

Tristan’s expression darkened.

“She doesn't know how to dress up,” he said dismissively. “Even if I did, she’d just say I’m wasting money.”

“Zara is different,” he added with a wistful smile. “She’s young. Girls her age love pretty things.”

Marco nearly exploded on the spot.

“Wake up, Tristan! Linda is your wife—your wife of five years! She lost three children for you. And yet she’s not worth even a fraction of what you give to Zara Swan?”

Marco’s voice grew colder. “Let me warn you one last time. Even imported birth control can ruin someone’s body when taken for too long. If you keep this up, you’ll never be able to have children—not even if you regret it later.”

Tristan waved him off with a bored expression.

“I won’t regret it,” he said smugly. “I promised Zara she’d be the only one to have my child.”

“As for Linda? I won’t divorce her. Half of what I earn is enough compensation for her.”

Marco stood abruptly, his face flushed with anger.

“I’ve watched you build your business from the ground up, step by step—and Linda was there through it all. She drank more than you at social events, endured countless sleepless nights for your success. And this is how you repay her?”

He clenched his fists. “I’ve said what needed to be said. If she ever finds out the truth, mark my words—you’ll destroy yourself.”

With that, Marco stormed out of the office.

I shrank back into the adjacent utility room, my heart pounding violently in my chest.

Five years of marriage. Seven years of love.

I had stood by Tristan’s side as he built his empire, working day and night to help him succeed. I scrimped on skincare, avoided buying cosmetics and lived frugally to save money for his dreams.

When he thrived, I was happier than anyone. But now, I realized all my sacrifices had become a joke.

Marco once told me the miscarriages were due to overwork and heavy drinking at business gatherings. I blamed myself and took medication religiously, hoping to strengthen my body. I dreamed of having a child—a symbol of our love. But to Tristan, I was nothing but an obstacle to his pursuit of “true love.” He was too cowardly to ask for a divorce. So I would make the decision for him.