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

I felt sick to my stomach.

I couldn't pretend nothing had happened.

All the hurt and rage I'd been burying came roaring to the surface.

"Then divorce me and marry her!" I screamed. "Kevin, you don't have to keep acting like you're the one making sacrifices here. It makes me want to puke!"

I snatched up that pair of panties and ripped them to shreds.

"Slut! You're both disgusting!"

Kevin watched my meltdown with what looked like satisfaction. He reached out and wiped the tears from the corner of my eye.

"See what you've done to yourself? Getting this worked up just to get a rise out of me—was it worth it?"

"Roberta, that's in the past. Why can't you just move on?"

"We have a daughter now. Stop talking about divorce."

I slapped his hand away and said nothing.

Our daughter had woken up from all the noise and wouldn't stop crying. I went to the bed and picked her up, rocking her gently.

Kevin watched for a moment, then left and closed the door behind him.

Once I got her settled, I went to the living room to get water for her formula. That's when the sharp smell of alcohol hit me.

I looked over at Kevin.

He was sitting on the floor, eyes glazed, several empty bottles scattered around his feet.

He looked half-dead.

Drowning his sorrows because his precious Adela is about to marry someone else?

His phone rang.

He glanced at it. Something flickered across his face. His hand trembled as he answered.

"Adela. I'm here."

The voice on the other end was soft and breathy. "Kevin, she won't let you come see me, will she?"

His expression darkened. "Adela, she's my wife. We have a daughter together. I have responsibilities."

"I know. You're a good man, Kevin. Dependable. Responsible. I always knew I had good taste."

Adela's voice was feather-light, like it might break at any moment.

Kevin gripped the phone tighter, his tone gentle. "We shouldn't see each other anymore. Adela, I hope you and him have a happy marriage. Grow old together."

Just as he was about to hang up, she pleaded:

"Kevin, can I say a few words to her?"

Kevin hesitated, then held the phone out to me. "Adela wants to talk to you. Try to control your temper—don't scare her."

I didn't take it. But Adela seemed to know I was right there.

"Roberta, since he's chosen to stay with his family, I'm begging you—please treat him well. He works so hard out there, dealing with so much stress. It's not any easier for him than it is for you."

"He doesn't like spicy food. He loves sweet drinks, especially mango pomelo sago. Don't let him have too much cold stuff in the summer—his stomach can't handle it."

"Oh, and I bought him a massage pillow. His neck and shoulders bother him. Remember to use it on him when you have time. Also, he's at a critical point in his career right now, and you just had the baby not too long ago. If you two are going to be intimate, be careful—don't get pregnant again and distract him. Make sure he uses protection..."

I let out a cold laugh. "Are you done?"

"God, you really have no shame, do you? Sticking your nose in from a thousand miles away! Since you can't let him go, how about I gift-wrap him and deliver him to your bed tomorrow? Perfect timing—you can swap out your groom!"

"After all, a shameless homewrecker like you doesn't care what people think, right? Why don't we let everyone see what you really—"

Kevin snatched the phone away. "Shut up! What the hell is wrong with you?"

I glared at him with pure hatred. "She can do it, so I can say it. You two are pathetic—a cheating bastard and his whore. And you have the nerve to coo at each other right in front of me."

Through the phone came Adela's soft, trembling sobs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset your wife."