Birth Control Pills from My Husband Made Me Ran To An Old Love

"The baby will be born, and then we’ll invite the brothers to come out and celebrate," she said.

Their decision was made. They were keeping the child.

A suffocating weight pressed down on my chest. I opened the window to let in fresh air, but it didn’t help. Standing on the balcony, inhaling deeply, the cold wind did little to ease the storm inside me.

After a while, I calmed myself enough to take a screenshot of the group chat before silently exiting. But I remained sitting in the corner of the balcony, lost in my thoughts, until Ferry came home unexpectedly early. He pulled me up from the floor and shut the window.

"It’s the middle of winter. Sitting here with the window open—you’ll get sick," he scolded.

I stared at him, searching his face. He was fussing over me, adjusting my clothes, but something about him felt different. He wasn’t the same as before. Was it guilt? Did he finally feel remorse after what he had done? Repulsed, I sidestepped him, avoiding his touch.

"Don’t touch me."

He froze for a moment before finally meeting my eyes. There was something unreadable in his gaze, and then he said lightly, "It’s because of what happened in the group chat, isn’t it?"

"Karen, didn’t we agree before we got married? We were only doing this to fulfill our parents’ wishes."

"They’re satisfied now. I’m content. So what more do you want?"

Our marriage had never been about love—it was an arrangement, a necessity. The Gardner and Zach families had been close for generations, but while I had studied abroad since middle school, Ferry had remained in Europe. We had barely spoken growing up, our relationship nothing like that of our fathers. But when I returned home, our parents had pushed us together.

They had pleaded, cried, and insisted, "You two getting married is the best choice."

"We’ve paved the way for you. Why insist on going down the wrong path?"

"That boyfriend of yours? Forget him. We won’t allow it—not unless your father and I are dead."

They had stripped us of our bank cards and phones, placed bodyguards at the doors, and done everything in their power to force us together. I had no choice but to break up with the man I loved. And in the end, I married Ferry.

Before we received our marriage license, he had looked at me with cold detachment. "We’re in this together. As long as they’re satisfied, nothing else matters."

I knew he loved Chindy. But I never imagined he would be so brazen about it. Or that he would go so far as to secretly feed me birth control pills for three years. Our marriage may have started as a sham, but five years is a long time. To say I wasn’t hurt would be a lie. To say I wasn’t disgusted—an even bigger one.

I turned to him and asked, "So you want to keep the baby?"

Even as I asked, I already knew the answer.

If Chindy hadn’t gotten Ferry’s approval, she wouldn’t have so openly accepted the red envelopes from the group. She wouldn’t have made a spectacle of herself unless she was certain she had his support.

Ferry clenched his jaw. "Karen, I want a child."

The words made me snap. My hand flew before I could stop it, striking him across the face. The absurdity of it all hit me at once. I started laughing—hysterically, painfully—tears streaming down my face as I did. Without another word, I walked into the bedroom. The test reports from the lab still lay on the table, alongside the hospital’s diagnostic reports.

Fury surged through me as I grabbed them and hurled them at him.

"Ferry, take a look for yourself."

"The ‘folic acid’ you gave me—it’s birth control, isn’t it?"

He stilled. His hands trembled as he picked up the reports, scanning them with wide, disbelieving eyes.

His voice shook. "Karen..."

I cut him off, my voice cold and unyielding. "You fed me birth control pills for three years. And now—now you have the audacity to say you want a baby?"