Betrayed After Birth I Divorced Him at His Mistress’s Wedding

"All I want in this life is to drift through the clouds with you, never apart, morning or night."

"Adela, the woman who shares my bed isn't the one in my heart. Only in my dreams, late at night, can I still see your face—so pure it makes my heart ache."

Kevin's composure finally cracked. He lost control and shouted, "Shut up! Roberta, I made one mistake! Haven't I paid enough for it this past year?"

"It's over and done with—why do you keep dragging it up?"

I laughed coldly, grabbed the women's lotus-print panties, and flung them at his face.

"I'm the one dragging it up? Oh, your love letters to her were so touching, I just had to keep them. To remind you that you've got a pure, beautiful Adela Fox tucked away in your heart!"

"And you call that paying for it? Poppy Abbott isn't just my daughter. Taking care of her is your responsibility—nothing more!"

Kevin had always been the romantic type. When he loved someone, he'd pull out all these sappy gestures.

I used to roll my eyes at them while secretly feeling giddy inside.

I thought I'd be the only woman he'd ever love.

Until one day, bored and cleaning, I found a box hidden at the bottom of his bookshelf.

Inside was a stack of papers.

Over two years, he'd written her five hundred and twenty-one love letters.

The lotus-embroidered panties Adela gave him were her answer to his devotion.

It was like I'd opened Pandora's box. The demons inside devoured my soul in an instant.

That day, the shock sent me into early labor.

Kevin didn't know I'd found their filthy secret. He kept playing the star-crossed lover with Adela—until I exposed them both.

I'd barely finished my postpartum recovery when I stuffed that thick stack of letters into my bag and stormed to his company, ready to unmask them in front of everyone.

But the receptionist said Kevin had taken Adela on a supply run.

A female coworker noticed how pale I looked. Thinking I was just there to drop off documents for my husband, she took pity on me. "I heard Mr. Swanson tell Adela this morning he was taking her to Mariposa Pavilion."

My last shred of hope died.

I stopped thinking.

When I got to the hotel, the staff assumed I was there to cause trouble. I had no choice but to call the police.

With their help, I finally found them in a suite—my husband, panicked, shielding his mistress like she was something precious.

I lost my mind. I clawed at them, screamed every vile curse I knew, took photos, exposed everything.

The whole thing went smoothly. It wasn't even hard.

But it drained every ounce of strength I had.

Kevin rubbed his temples, irritated. "Was all that really necessary? Fine, the hotel—I lost my head. But that was the only time we were intimate. You barged in and ruined it before anything more could happen."

I shot back, "Don't you dare act righteous about cheating!"

"Kevin, you're despicable!"

He smirked, his voice calm and cruel. "You know what, Roberta? The more you throw these tantrums, the more beautiful Adela looks in my mind."

"You'll never compare to her. Let's see how long you can keep this up."

My breath came fast and shallow. I stared at him, unblinking.

His mask had finally slipped—but instead of satisfaction, I felt a boulder crushing my chest.

The man who once looked at me like I was his whole world now wore a face I couldn't stand.

I'd thought about letting it go.

He'd apologized, come back to the family. We had an infant daughter who needed us both.

But this past year, every time he climbed into bed with me, every time he reached for me as a husband—all I could see was him tangled up with Adela.