My Wife Wants Me to Raise Her First Love’s Child

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.