I took a deep breath, my eyes reddening as I looked at Thomas. "Do you even hear yourself? If this gets out, what will people think of you? Of us? Don't you think this is absurd?"
My breathing grew ragged, my face turning pale as the words left me.
He had never seen me like this before. His tone softened immediately. "I know I'm in the wrong. I should've talked to you first. But believe me—this is the first time, and the last.
"I promise it will never happen again. You'll always be my wife. That won't change.
"As for Lucy, she won't appear in front of you again, and she won't interfere with our life. We can go back to how things were before, okay?"
A crushing pain tightened in my chest, my throat constricting until I could barely breathe. How could he say all this so matter-of-factly?
"Thomas, you said she knelt in front of you, threatened suicide, and you agreed to have a child with her. Then what about me? We've been married for seventeen years. Didn't I ever beg you to give me a child?"
My love for children had always been obvious to everyone.
I couldn't resist playing with the neighbor's kids. I showered my friends' children with gifts. At every gathering, I would instinctively drift toward the kids, laughing and playing along with them.
All my friends knew how much I longed for a child—some even urged me to adopt.
But I loved Thomas. Anything he didn't want, I would never force on him. So I stayed by his side for seventeen years—and remained child-free for seventeen years.
"You used work as an excuse to transfer me out of this city, keeping me too busy to come back… while you secretly had a child with Lucy, dressing it up as 'helping her out'…"
"Enough!" Thomas's voice rose sharply, cutting me off.
Impatience filled his face. "Women are such trouble—why nitpick over every little thing? I know you're upset. Fine, wait until you calm down, and we'll talk. The child is already born—you can't undo that. No way in hell am I abandoning the kid."
With that, he turned and walked away without a second glance.
I stared at his retreating figure, my fists clenching uncontrollably.
It felt as though a massive stone was pressing down on my chest, my heart throbbing in waves of pain.
…
True to his word, Thomas disappeared completely. For seven whole days, he didn't show his face—didn't even send a single message.
Meanwhile, Lucy's social media updates came one after another.
Photos of the two of them shopping together at baby stores. Him in an apron, busy in the kitchen. Even pictures of him washing the baby's clothes by hand.
As his wife, I had never known he could cook or do laundry.
He even revived a long-shelved project for an elite kindergarten, claiming it was a gift for his child—so the child could grow up in the best school possible.
The irony didn't stop there. Lucy started a parenting account, branding it as "new mom daily life."
In her videos, Thomas appeared frequently. The two of them presented themselves as husband and wife.
Lucy spoke confidently about childcare—feeding, soothing, putting the baby to sleep—while they worked together seamlessly.
Handsome man, beautiful woman. Their exchanged smiles quickly drew in a massive following.
…
I shut off my phone, my heart pounding with anger.
Calls from business partners came one after another, asking if the rumors about my marriage were true. I brushed them all off, then finally turned my phone off altogether.
As for my in-laws, they stopped pretending entirely—visiting Lucy every few days to see their precious grandson. They had once believed they would never have a grandchild. Now that they did, they doted on him endlessly.
They looked warm and harmonious together—like a real family. And I, the lawful wife, was left alone, like a decorative object.
Even when I tried not to look, the news still found its way to me. Through Lucy's posts. Through mutual friends.
I let out a cold laugh and posted directly on my own feed: [Congratulations to my child-free husband of seventeen years and his first love on the birth of their son.]
Not long after, my mother-in-law called.
I rejected the call, but she kept dialing, relentless—as if she would keep going until I answered.
In the end, I picked up.
Her shrill voice came through immediately, filled with accusation. "What nonsense are you posting online?
"I thought if you had the ability to make my son marry you, you'd at least be capable of giving him a child! Who would've thought you can't even bear children—what a waste of my son's good genes! Now that my son finally has a child, you should just accept it. A woman who can't even give birth—my son is kind enough to keep you, and you still have the nerve to be sarcastic?"
"Whether I can have children or not—Thomas knows perfectly well." With that, I hung up and blocked her number.
How could I not be able to have children? It was Thomas who didn't want them. I didn't want to make things difficult for him, so I underwent the surgery. And now it had somehow become my fault—that I was the one who couldn't conceive.
Before I could even process it, Thomas's call came through.
His voice carried unmistakable anger. "Michelle, what the hell are you trying to do?"
"Lucy is furious because of you. She's kicked me and my parents out of the house! Apologize to her right now and ask for her forgiveness!"
The restraint I'd maintained these past few days finally snapped.
Once, my in-laws had treated me well. Though they were dissatisfied about the lack of children, they had still regarded me like their own daughter. My husband had always been generous and composed, never embarrassing me in public.
But now? They all treated me with the worst kind of hostility—going so far as to order me to apologize to a mistress.
I had no interest in listening to another word. I hung up, blocked, and deleted his contact in one swift motion.
But not long after, Thomas showed up with bodyguards. They grabbed me and dragged me toward the door.
His voice was laced with fury. "Lucy has locked everyone out and is threatening to kill herself. If anything happens to her, how are you going to take responsibility? Come with me right now and apologize to her and the child!"
"Let go of me!" I struggled free from their grip and stared at him coldly. "Apologize? Only people who've done something wrong need to apologize. Thomas, tell me—what did I do wrong? Did I have a child with someone else? Or did I make someone else's husband have a child with me?"
The moment I finished speaking, a sharp crack rang out. A burning pain exploded across my face. His rough palm had struck me, leaving my cheek stinging even more fiercely.
Thomas stared at me coldly, the hostility and disgust in his eyes undisguised. "Do you think that just because I've been gentle with you for seventeen years, you've gotten carried away? Let me make this clear—I like Lucy. Not only will I have one child with her, there will be a second. And a third."
