Caught My Husband Dating His First Love

When he spoke again, there was a reluctant hint of approval.

“Not a bad match. I’ll wear it to tonight’s dinner.”

After a pause, he added, “Send me your address; I’ll have the anniversary jewelry delivered to you.”

I refused, saying, “No need, my taste is different from Michelle’s.”

Michelle was his first love. Since returning from abroad, she’d become his personal secretary, managing everything from his schedule to gift-giving.

At the mention of Michelle, his tone turned icy. “Who do you think you are, daring to compare yourself to her?”

I laughed softly, “You’re right. I’m not worthy, which is why I don’t want you wasting good things on me.”

Quincy was momentarily speechless.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I continued, “Please have Michelle arrange a date to go to the civil affairs bureau. Just text me the date, no need to call.”

As I was about to hang up, he changed the topic. “Our son is here. He wants to say a few words to you.”

Before Mason could speak, I ended the call, just as swiftly as he’d blocked me that day.

Putting down the phone, I held my grandmother’s hand and joined her in watching an old opera.

A week flew by. While waiting for a friend at a hotel salon, I received a call from an unfamiliar number. It was Mason’s school principal.

He said that Mason had gotten into a fight. The conflict started when a classmate asked about his parents’ divorce, believing rumors.

I replied, “It’s no rumor; his father and I are indeed divorced. I don’t have custody, so please contact his father.”

After hearing this, the principal awkwardly explained that Mason had only provided my contact number.

So, I asked him to put the phone on speaker.

In front of the injured student and their parents, I said to Mason, “You were wrong for hitting someone. Admit your mistake—wasn’t this always you and your father’s principle?

Also, from now on, don’t call me for anything. Understand that we no longer have any relationship.”

Then I hung up, set my phone to Do Not Disturb and waved at my best friend Helen and her daughter.

When I was pregnant with Mason, I dreamed of having a daughter. Even though that didn’t happen, I still treated Mason like a treasure, raising him wholeheartedly.

Before he turned six, Mason would plant trees in the garden for the cartoon cats who “passed away” and even save little red flowers from preschool to surprise me.

Later, as Quincy took Mason to visit the family estate more often, my son stopped crying or smiling by the age of eight.

He even started looking down on Grandma’s old red-brick home, saying to me, “Did you grow up in a place like this? No wonder Grandma never respects you.”

Just then, Helen’s daughter fed me a piece of cheesecake, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Seeing me eat, Helen said, “Now you owe your goddaughter a favor. You’ll have to watch her compete now.”