Search History Revealed Him

My phone ran out of battery, so I borrowed my husband’s to quickly search on Google what kind of Valentine’s Day gift would surprise a man.

Unexpectedly, I stumbled upon his browsing history:

“Having unprotected sex with a Black girl—will that give me AIDS?”

“If I can make a foreign woman climax three times in one night, does that mean I’m strong?”

“Do illegitimate children from international affairs have inheritance rights?”

My whole body stiffened, and a terrible premonition shot straight up my spine.

When my husband came out after his shower, I immediately asked:

“Have you been troubled by something lately?”

Daniel Foster froze.

“Well, actually, yeah! We’ve been married for five years without having a child. How about we adopt one?”

“I’ve heard Black babies are smart—why don’t we adopt a mixed-race one?”

I forced a smile. “Sure!”

Then I immediately called my childhood friend, a lawyer:

“What’s the maximum sentence for bigamy?”

“…”

There was a short silence on the other end before a deep voice said:

“That bastard Daniel really dared to cheat on you?”

My throat felt dry; I paused before speaking again:

“I’m not sure, but he said he wants to adopt a Black baby.”

“And in his search history, he was asking if cooking with Black women could transmit AIDS.”

The voice cursed and then warned me urgently:

“Stay away from him and get a full medical check-up right now!”

Then came the rustling sound of movement.

“Wait for me—I’m flying back immediately!”

The call had barely ended when my phone buzzed with a friend request.

The avatar was a chibi devil girl.

As soon as I accepted, a message popped up:

“Being a mom without labor pain feels great, doesn’t it?”

I was still puzzled when the doorbell rang.

My husband walked in carrying a large cardboard box.

“Sweetheart, surprise!

“It’s Valentine’s Day today, and I got you a special gift. Open it, quick!”

He placed the box on the coffee table in front of me.

I froze for a second, thinking maybe I had misunderstood him.

After all, he had never been this thoughtful on Valentine’s Day before.

With a hint of hope, I carefully unwrapped the box.

The next second, a piercing cry nearly shattered my eardrums.

My eyes widened in disbelief as I looked inside.

It was a dark-skinned infant.

The baby’s mouth was wide open, crying at the top of his lungs.

“Well? Do you like it?”

“You agreed just yesterday, and today I’ve already brought the baby home. Don’t be too touched—from now on, you’ll be his mother!”

Daniel stood proudly in front of me, chest puffed out.

A surge of fury rose inside me; I had to take several deep breaths to hold it back.

Turning my head toward him in disbelief, I asked:

“You actually dared to bring him home?”

Daniel didn’t notice the change in my expression and kept rambling excitedly:

“I did my research. Black babies are the smartest. If you raise him from the start, he’ll definitely grow up grateful and loyal to you!”

“From now on, hand the company over to me and just focus on raising our child at home!”

His selfish calculations were written all over his face.

I finally lost control and slapped him hard across his cheek.

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

“Why should I raise someone else’s unwanted bastard?”

Daniel was stunned by the slap.

It took him a while to react.

Then he frowned, looking at me like I was being unreasonable:

“Don’t call him a bastard—it sounds so harsh. He just doesn’t have a father, that’s all!”