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He Lost Me Over A Child That Was Never His Novel Cover

He Lost Me Over A Child That Was Never His

After two decades of a child-free marriage, Charles Davis shatters his wife's world by bringing home a seven-year-old child. Investigation reveals a devastating betrayal: Charles has been secretly supporting another pregnant woman, Eleanor, aided by his own mother. When confronted, Charles refuses to abandon his secret family, coldly suggesting they split his time between both households. Refusing to accept this humiliating compromise, his wife decides to end their marriage once and for all.
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Chapter 1

After twenty years of a child-free marriage, Charles Davis suddenly returned home with a seven-year-old child.

When I dug deeper, I uncovered the truth: he had been secretly supporting another woman, and she was pregnant again. Even my mother-in-law, who should have been enjoying her retirement, had moved in with her, personally tending to her during the pregnancy.

I lost all composure when everything came to light and confronted Charles in a heated, heart-wrenching argument.

Relatives and friends tried to reason with me.

"Why make such a big scene? You've been married for twenty years. Honestly, we understand Charles. A man needs an heir. Unlike a woman, he can't live without roots…"

Tears blurred my vision as I stared at Charles, who stood silently. He was already in his forties, yet time had barely touched him. His face was still strikingly handsome and well-maintained as if he had never carried the burdens I had.

"You can bring the child home. That is the greatest compromise I can offer."

Charles grabbed his car keys and walked toward the door. I thought my words had settled the matter, that he had silently agreed.

But just before stepping out, he reached up and took down our wedding photo from the entryway.

"Eleanor went through the agony of carrying my child for ten months. It wasn't easy for her. I won't abandon her to fend for herself."

His gaze met mine, cold, indifferent, stripped of the love I once knew.

"If you can't accept them, then from now on, I'll spend odd-numbered days with her and even-numbered days with you."

My fingers curled into fists. Any lingering hope that we could mend what was broken crumbled instantly.

"In that case, let's get a divorce!"

——

The room fell into a suffocating silence. Even Charles, who was about to shut the door, stopped in his tracks.

He turned back slowly, his expression unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Natalie… don't be ridiculous."

Tears burned my eyes, but I wiped them away, refusing to let them fall.

"I'm not being ridiculous. Charles, let's divorce."

His face darkened, his gaze sharpening as it settled on me with a mix of disbelief and reproach.

"Natalie, it's been twenty years. Why are you still so stubborn?"

"Eleanor is ten years younger than you, yet she's gentle and understanding. She knows her position is difficult, but she never complains. She only wants to stay by my side and care for our child. She's done nothing wrong."

"She gave birth to my child, and now you expect me to take the baby from her and abandon her like she never mattered? I can't do it. I won't be that heartless."

His voice was calm, almost detached, yet every word struck me like a blade, cutting deeper than I ever thought possible.

I closed my eyes.

Twenty years ago, Charles and I had been inseparable, bound by love and shared convictions. We had believed in the same future where children had no place, not because we didn't care but because we weren't ready to shoulder the weight of parenthood so young.

I had feared the pain of childbirth, and without hesitation, Charles had undergone a vasectomy. We had taken every precaution, ensuring our choice remained unchanged.

Our decision sparked outrage on both sides of the family. His father had been livid, throwing us out without a second thought. But Charles hadn't wavered. He had stood by me, choosing to break away and build our own life.

Together, we had started from nothing, carving out a future with our own hands.

Ten years ago, when the pressure to have children reached its peak, his mother had even pressed a knife to her throat, demanding we give her a grandchild.

I couldn't pretend I hadn't been shaken. The sight of her so desperate had unsettled me, and for the first time, doubt crept in.

"Do you not want children?" I had asked, my voice unsteady. "Even seeing your mother like this, are you still sure? We could have a child…"

Charles had taken my hand, his grip firm, his eyes filled with unwavering love.

"Natalie, I don't want you to suffer through childbirth. And I don't want us to bring a child into this world because of someone else's demands. Do you understand?"

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