My Wife Married Me to Steal My Brother's Baby

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After I divorced the wife who cheated on me, I moved thirty-three times, and every time she found me.

Slit wrists, a bottle of sleeping pills, a jump into the river—she staked her life on getting me back.

The last time, she cut open her own throat, and the blood sprayed across my face.

When she came out of the ICU, Janet Sullivan was still clutching my wrist, eyes red, begging to remarry me.

That time, I finally gave in.

She wept with joy, and after we remarried she gave me every reassurance I could ask for.

She changed all her passwords to my birthday, handed over her bank cards, kept her phone's location on twenty-four hours a day.

Slowly, I let go of the resentment.

In the third year she had our child and nearly died in labor, and I cared for her day and night.

Even a small frown from her would set me off, asking whether the incision hurt.

That night, late, I finished feeding the baby and went to wash the bottle.

Passing through the living room, I saw the iPad on the coffee table light up.

On the secret account she'd forgotten to log out of, a message popped up from my younger brother.

【Still didn't let him touch you tonight? Guess there's no action movie to watch again.】

In the bedroom, rocking our baby to sleep, she answered almost instantly.

【Relax, you jealous thing. Ever since I came home from the hospital after the birth, I haven't let him touch me.】

【Stop watching the camera and go to sleep. Stay up any longer and you'll feel awful tomorrow.】

So Janet had never cut him off.

The camera in the bedroom wasn't there so I could look after the baby more easily.

It was there to prove her innocence.

In that instant, my heart finally died.

The inescapable clinging of three years ago would not happen a second time.

......

From the bedroom came Janet's soft, patient humming as she coaxed our son Lewis Martinez to sleep.

And I was cold all over.

Just thinking of her every day in that bedroom, clothes open to nurse, every image of it watched by the man I hated most.

It made me gag and couldn't stop.

Janet heard the noise and hurried out.

“What's wrong? Are you feeling sick somewhere?” Her brow creased.

Without a flicker, I let the iPad screen go dark.

“My stomach hurts a little. Get me a glass of water?”

She did, handing it over carefully.

“Any better?”

When I said nothing, she touched my face, then my forehead.

“Still feeling bad? Should we go to the hospital?”

I looked at the concern in her eyes and spoke quietly.

“Janet, are you still in contact with Timothy James?”

Something flickered in her eyes. “We cut ties a long time ago. Why are you suddenly asking that?”

When I didn't answer, Janet's eyes went red and she dropped to her knees, her voice pleading.

“I promised you, and I won't go back on my word. Adrian Whitmore, you can't leave me again.”

“Is there something I did wrong that made you misunderstand?”

My fingernails dug into my palm as I fought down the trembling and forced a small smile.

“It's nothing. I just suddenly thought of the past.”

She let out a breath, took my hand, and led me back to the bedroom, her tone exasperated.

“You skip sleep and your mind starts spinning.”

We lay down again, and out of habit Janet reached to hold me.

I dodged on reflex and turned my back to her. “It's hot.”

She paused, then turned the air conditioning down two degrees.

“Adrian, I've changed. We have a child now. You can't punish me over some guess you can't even prove.”

I said nothing.

A long time passed, and she must have thought I was asleep.

In the dark, her phone screen glowed to life.

The sound of typing was unusually clear in the quiet room.

Light and quick, threaded through with the breathy sound of Janet's soft laughter.

I had no wish to sleep.

Tears slid down without warning and soaked the pillow.

I didn't sleep all night.

The next morning I left for work, and before I went out the door she rose on her toes and kissed my forehead.

“Come home early. I'll be waiting.”

The moment the door shut, I clamped a hand over my mouth and rushed into the elevator.

Just thinking that everything she did was being watched turned my stomach.

At the office, I opened the iPad I'd carried out of the house.

Janet and Timothy's messages were easy, familiar, and it was clear they'd never lost touch.

Just like three years ago, when I caught the two of them tangled together against the floor-to-ceiling window of a hotel room, cheek to cheek, that close.

I bit down hard on the soft flesh of my tongue and forced my eyes wide, reading it word by word.

Reading how the woman who, ever since getting pregnant, had refused to touch me on the grounds of "being safe" was playing dangerous games with Timothy.

Reading how she, who had turned down my offer to come along on business trips because she "didn't want to be distracted," took Timothy to conferences out of town and went sightseeing on the side.

When Timothy asked her, 【Your brother or me, which one do you like more】, the line she shot back in an instant.

【He's not as good as you.】

Four small words.

They nailed me, the man who'd let down his guard to remarry her and have a child, to the pillory.

Tears dropped onto the screen and blurred my vision.

I opened my phone, withdrew my resignation letter, and applied for an out-of-state assignment.

My boss called soon after.

“Adrian, it's wonderful that you want to come back. But the Seattle assignment—are you sure?”

“This is a confidential project. You can bring family, but you'll be cut off from the outside world for at least three years.”

I wiped the tears off my face and replied: 【I'm sure.】

This time, I would take my child and slip away quietly, and Janet would never find me again.