Goodbye Husband, Hello Baby: I'm Keeping the Child Only

On the night I discovered my husband, Charles Lockheart's affair with the secretary, Whitney Keaton, both of them ended up dying in a fire. I was left with a pair of twins.

Despite my family's objections, I decided to adopt the twins. For the next 18 years, I put in all of my resources, blood, sweat, and tears to raise them. Finally, they are accepted into Hallwood College, a globally prestigious college.

But on the day the twins get into Hallwood College, Charles and Whitney, who are supposedly dead, make a shocking appearance before us.

Whitney links arms with Charles, a wide smile on her face.

"As expected of our biological sons! They really are amazing for getting accepted into Hallwood College! It's all thanks to you raising our sons that we got to spend so many years in our honeymoon phase!"

Charles wears a victorious and smug look. He doesn't feel guilty in the slightest for faking his death.

"Let's get a divorce, Brittany. Now is the best time for the twins to be reunited with Whitney and me."

Everyone turns to look at me, waiting for me to have an emotional breakdown.

But I remain cool and composed as I reply icily, "What a coincidence. I feel the same way."

"Hallwood College! It's Hallwood College!"

I had just gotten back from a business trip when I heard my sons cheering in the yard. The moment I walked in, they ran over excitedly and showed me the acceptance letters.

"Mom, it's the acceptance letters from Hallwood! We both got in! And into the majors we wanted!"

I was stunned. They had already received offers from various prestigious colleges, but not from their dream school, Hallwood College. Now that they had finally gotten in, I was so happy for them.

"That's wonderful. What do you want for dinner tonight? I'll cook for you."

My sons excitedly named dish after dish, arguing over who would help out in the kitchen. After a lively dinner, they pulled me in for some photos and posted them on social media.

My older son, Ethan Lockheart, loved photography and had a large following online. Whenever he posted something, it would gain a lot of engagement.

His younger twin, Ryan Lockheart, scrolled through his phone and said, "Mom, everyone's complimenting you! They're saying Ethan must be lying—you look like our sister, not our mom."

Ethan laughed. "They're not wrong. Mom's a natural beauty. If she wasn't the CEO of a company, she could've been an international superstar."

Watching my sons tease me, I felt comforted and unexpectedly a little teary-eyed.

18 years earlier, my husband, Charles Lockheart, had died in a fire along with his secretary. He had left behind two illegitimate sons and a mountain of chaos.

The business problems were manageable. After all, my family and the Lockhearts were prominent families in Westbrook. But the two kids…

My parents had insisted I return home and sever all ties with the Lockheart family. But I refused. I chose to raise the boys and acquired Lockheart Group all on my own.

People said I was blinded by love. Even after my husband cheated on me, I still devoted myself to taking care of his sons and his company.

I never responded to the gossip. I simply focused on raising the boys well.

In the blink of an eye, they had reached the age for college.

Ethan's post was clearly visible to more than just his followers. Charles' parents, Martin Lockheart and Denise Jones, saw it too. They called soon after.

"Brittany, Ethan and Ryan are so impressive. But why didn't you tell us first? Martin and I had to learn about our grandsons online."

Hearing Denise go on and on, my mood cooled.

Over the years, Martin and Denise had treated me like the family's benefactor, praising my loyalty and devotion. They were careful not to offend me, as if I might stop them from seeing their grandsons. But as Ethan and Ryan grew older, there was always a sense of urgency hidden beneath their kindness. Now, perhaps, they could no longer hide it.

Martin took the phone. "Brittany, you've worked hard raising Ethan and Ryan alone all these years. Let Denise and me handle their 18th birthday and college acceptance parties in a few days—"

"It's fine," I interrupted. "They're my sons. When it comes to moments this important, of course I'll handle it myself."

Maybe I misheard, but I thought I heard a third person on the other end. That person let out a soft scoff, quiet yet unmistakable.

Martin didn't press further. Unusually agreeable, he said, "Alright. As you wish."

I hung up. Then, I began preparing for the celebration three days later—Ethan and Ryan's college acceptance and 18th birthday party. It would be one of the most important moments of their lives. I wanted to give them the grand celebration they deserved.

The party was going to be held at a private estate halfway up the hills. It was formal and lavish. From the tableware to the wine, every detail was carefully selected by me.

Wanting as many people as possible to witness this moment, I invited every influential name in Westbrook.

Late that night, after I confirmed once more that the party would be perfect, the tension in my lips finally eased, replaced by a faint smile.

I was looking forward to the next day.