Six hours. She had spent six whole hours with Kevin—kissing him, or doing God knows what—before finally remembering to look for me. That’s the most ridiculous excuse I’ve I ever heard.
“I wasn’t feeling well, so I went home. Forgot to tell you,” I said offhandedly. Maybe all this time living with her—and her endless lies—had rubbed off on me. I could now toss out excuses without blinking.
Still, the unease on her face didn’t fade. Annette climbed into bed and snuggled against me, clutching my arm as if afraid I might vanish.
“Next time, don’t forget to tell me, okay?” she whispered. “You always have to let me know where you are or I’ll worry and if you ever disappear, I’ll turn over every single stone in the city until I find you.”
I closed my eyes, offering no reply. In three days, she would never find me again.
The next morning, perhaps out of guilt, Annette had a Patek Philippe delivered to the house.
“I’m sorry about last night. Please don’t be angry, okay?” she said softly, holding out the watch box like a peace offering.
I opened it briefly, then set it aside. “I’m not angry,” I told her, retrieving another box I had already prepared. “This is the gift I got for our anniversary. But you can’t open it until two days from now.”
Originally, I had planned on giving her a necklace—custom-made by an international jewelry designer. But the day I caught her cheating, I threw it away. Instead, I slipped off the wedding ring I had never once removed from my finger and placed it inside.
That would be the only thing I left her.
Annette accepted the box, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
“But Honey, our anniversary was yesterday. Why make me wait two more days?”
I gave her a faint smile. “Because it’s very special. It’ll surprise you even more if you open it then.”
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“Alright then,” she said eagerly. “I’ll do exactly as you say.”
The words had barely left her lips when the doorbell rang. She went to open it—only to find Kevin standing there, his face glowing with barely contained joy.
For a heartbeat, she froze. Then quickly, she grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the garden.
“Honey, Kevin’s here to discuss an important report about the company. I’ll take him to the garden so we can discuss about it and you can enjoy you breakfast without interruptions.”
From the upstairs window, I watched Kevin pull Annette into his arms.
But Annette shoved him away furiously, her face clouded with rage.
“Have you lost your mind?” she hissed. “Didn’t I tell you not to come to my house? If Easton suspects anything between us, I won’t let you off!”
Kevin’s eyes reddened as he pulled a folded document from his bag and thrust it into her “I know I shouldn’t have come, but… I got your medical report. It says you’re pregnant.” He paused. “We did it rough last night, and the doctor said the fetus isn’t stable in the early weeks or their development. I’m scarred, Annette. I don’t want anything to happen to our baby.”
He placed his palm gently on Annette’s lower abdomen. “And it’s going to be our first child.”
The words slammed into me like a fist. My body froze. Annette is pregnant?
When we had first married, she told me she never wanted children—that a baby would steal our attention from each other, dilute the love we shared. She had begged me to keep our marriage pure, undivided, just us and I, blinded by what I thought was her devotion, agreed.
Now I understood.
She never wanted my child. But she had no problem letting another man put his child inside her.
Annette’s eyes widened in shock when she first glanced at the paper. Then, slowly, her brows relaxed, and a tender smile spread across her face as her hand drifted protectively to her stomach.
“Nine weeks? I really need to start taking better care of myself,” she murmured lovingly.
Then she turned to him with gentle determination.
“Go wait for me in the car. I want you to take me to the prenatal checkup. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to this baby.”
