After Six Years, My Husband Had Another Woman’s Child
Chapter 1
Six years of marriage, two years of IVF, still no result.
To help improve my health, my husband hired a home nutritionist to design personalized meals tailored to my needs.
Three months later, the IVF finally succeeded.
Before I could even tell him, he sent a huge $800 cash gift in the family group chat, announcing he was going to be a dad.
Then I saw the nutritionist’s social media story post: a screenshot of the $800 transfer.
The caption read: “After three months of effort, I finally helped him achieve his wish to be a father~” My fingers hovered over the screen, and I ultimately didn’t tell him I was pregnant.
——
That evening, when Ethan Graham came home, his smile hadn’t faded.
Seeing my swollen eyes, he paused, then walked toward me expressionlessly.
“Ethan, congratulations on becoming a father. Let’s get a divorce!”
Ethan froze, then hurriedly explained,
“Hannah, did you misunderstand what I meant in the group chat?”
“I meant being a godfather? Sabrina is pregnant, and she asked me to be the child’s godfather… You know, there’s a folk custom of adopting children to attract fertility. If we become godparents, maybe we can conceive our own baby.”
Ethan rambled on, completely forgetting his MBA from the US. To hide the truth, he even believed in a folk custom.
I couldn’t stop a mocking laugh, tears streaming down my face.
“Ethan, when did even your words become a performance?”
“Is it about letting your white moonlight pretend to be a nutritionist, moving into our home to have an affair with you?”
As I spoke, I raised Sabrina Snow’s Social Media Story to his face, calmly handing him the USB drive.
Ethan’s face shifted instantly, followed by guilt.
“Hannah, I can explain. It’s not what you think…”
I looked at him quietly, finally speaking with grief and anger,
“Ethan, you and your first love slept in my bed! What do you think I meant?”
I had wanted a peaceful breakup. After ten years together, his vows of forever still echoed in my mind. I couldn’t stop the flood of sadness and rage.
Especially imagining that big bed I chose myself, where he held Sabrina, whispering the same sweet promises he once told me, I felt sick.
His lips kissed two people, saying identical words—how could he stay so calm?
I stared at Ethan, suppressing a tremor, and slowly spoke four words:
“I’m pregnant!”
Ethan rushed forward to hug me, but I clenched my teeth and slapped him hard.
“Ethan, you don’t deserve to be this child’s father. Let’s get a divorce.”
I couldn’t stop shaking, my voice trembling with emotion.
“That Sabrina, you got drunk for three days over her, even ending up with a stomach hemorrhage, and she still abandoned you and fled abroad.”
“Now she’s back, so you can’t wait to rekindle everything—movies with her, doctor visits with her, then having her child, making me watch the three of you act sweet right in front of me like I’m a fool.”
“I didn’t mean to lie to you!”
Ethan rushed over and knelt with a heavy thud, slapping himself repeatedly.
“Hannah, I can explain. Don’t be upset, it’s bad for the baby.”
“I just drank too much. That day, you went to the hospital, and she came in. I thought, I thought…”
I let out a bitter laugh.
That day, while I endured the agony of egg retrieval at the hospital—bleeding and confined to bed—he was passionately trying to conceive with his first love.
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