He Brought His Mistress Home,Now He's Begging Me to Stay

It was the fifth year since Tristan Vance had returned to our family, and I'd finally agreed to go back to his hometown with him for Memorial Day to visit the ancestral graves.

The car had just pulled into the driveway when he suddenly pressed his hand over mine as I reached for the door handle.

"Vivian's back. I went and picked her up."

Vivian Blake. Tristan's foster sister.

And the woman Tristan had cheated on me with five years ago.

I looked at him, my expression calm.

"You promised me you'd cut off all contact with her."

Tristan sighed.

"Isabel Henson, you can't be so selfish. I took your feelings into account back then. You'd just lost the baby and your mother, so I sent Vivian overseas. Five years is long enough. I can't keep her from coming home forever. Besides, the child needs a father."

My fingers tightened around the door handle.

So that was it.

The woman who was supposedly exiled overseas as punishment had actually been hidden away by Tristan all along. Not only had she wanted for nothing, but the baby that was supposed to have been terminated had been carried to term.

When I said nothing, Tristan reached over and touched my cold cheek.

"Don't worry. Vivian promised me that she and the boy will never threaten your position as Mrs. Vance. Of course, that's on the condition that you don't make things difficult for them."

——

The world seemed to freeze.

Neither Tristan nor I spoke again.

None of this was truly without warning. Over the past two years, his business trips had grown more and more frequent. He must have been using them as cover to visit Vivian and the child.

I looked at the man in front of me, at once so familiar and so foreign.

In that moment, I couldn't even remember what I'd loved about him in the first place. Even after discovering he'd cheated during our marriage, even after losing my baby and my family because of it, I'd still forgiven him. And that forgiveness had given him the wrong idea, made him fearless. He believed that no matter how far he pushed, I would always choose to forgive him in the end.

Tristan had chosen today to tell me deliberately. He knew every member of the family would be gathered under one roof. And he knew I cared about appearances more than anything. To maintain the illusion of a loving marriage, I would never cause a scene in front of everyone.

He was certain I would cave again and walk through that door with him.

Just as the silence in the car grew suffocating, someone knocked on the window from outside.

"Tristan, you're back! Why aren't you getting out?"

A syrupy, girlish voice drifted through the glass.

Vivian Blake.

I opened the car door and stepped out.

Our eyes met.

The smile on Vivian's face froze. Instinctively, she pulled the child beside her into a tight embrace.

"I... Isabel?!"

Her eyes were full of fear, her voice trembling.

As if I were some kind of monster.

Tristan moved forward without thinking, positioning himself between Vivian, the child, and me. His gaze was wary as it locked onto mine.

Watching him shield them so openly, I felt a dull ache spread through my chest, impossible to suppress.

I looked past Tristan, my gaze cutting straight to Vivian where she cowered behind him.

"I believe I told you never to let me see your face again."

My voice was perfectly calm.

But Vivian's body only shook harder.

Tristan frowned.

"I told you, I'm the one who brought her back."

"I'm the one who wronged you. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don't frighten Vivian and the child."

The warning in his words was unmistakable.

The little boy in Vivian's arms squirmed, poking half his face out from behind her. His features were a mirror image of Tristan's, practically identical to what Tristan must have looked like as a child.

He glared at me with vicious eyes and screamed, "You're a bad woman! I don't like you!"