The Text That Shattered Seven Years His Secret Wife Was Pregnant

I dragged myself home, exhausted to the bone. The wedding photo on the wall caught my eye, and this time it looked nothing short of absurd.

Adela. The one they all kept mentioning. She'd been our wedding photographer.

Back then, Leo had visited her studio over and over again, always with the same pretty excuse: he wanted me to look my most beautiful on our wedding day.

Now it all made sense. Every last sign had been there.

I stared at the photo—at Leo's tender smile—and couldn't tell anymore whether it had been meant for Adela or for me.

The next day, I didn't reach out to Leo. Not once. Before all this, I would've texted him every spare moment I had.

Because he hadn't heard from me all day, Leo came home that night.

The second he walked through the door, the interrogation began.

"Rose, why didn't you text me today?"

My face was blank. Unreadable.

"You must've been busy."

Leo opened his mouth, then closed it. He had nothing. Finally, he held out a shopping bag.

"Things are about to slow down soon. Rose, I brought you a gift. I know I haven't been around much lately."

Inside was a bottle of perfume. The floral scent hit me immediately, sharp and cloying.

I was allergic to floral fragrances.

I pushed the bag away.

"Rose, I picked this out especially for you. You don't like it?"

His brow creased, as though I were the one who'd done something hurtful.

"I'm allergic."

Something like realization flickered across his face. He pulled me into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I've been so swamped I forgot. Once this busy stretch is over, I'll make it up to you. I promise."

His clothes carried a different floral scent. Someone else's perfume, sharp against my nose.

"Mm."

I eased out of his embrace, turned, and headed for the bedroom.

"Rose Barnes." His voice hardened behind me. "So I forgot one thing, and you're going to give me attitude? I've been traveling for work—for us, for this home. What's your problem? Can you grow up? You think you're still that eighteen-year-old girl from seven years ago?"

I didn't respond.

Seven years ago, Leo wouldn't even let me walk past a flower shop. He'd cover my nose with his hand, terrified I'd breathe in the pollen.

Behind me, he snatched the perfume bag and hurled it into the trash.

"I spoil you too much. Take it or leave it."

The next day, a crowd of Leo's friends showed up at the apartment for dinner. Trailing behind them was Adela Swanson.

Leo's expression tightened. A flicker of nerves crossed his face.

"Hey, sis!" Adela extended her hand with a bright smile. "I'm Adela. Remember me?"

A custom diamond ring glittered on her finger. On mine sat a plastic band.

My gaze dropped to her swollen belly, round and unmistakable beneath her dress. My hand refused to move.

Leo grabbed Adela's outstretched hand before the silence stretched too long. "Rose has been exhausted lately. Don't take it personally."

At dinner, the air conditioning blew directly onto my back and Adela's.

Leo stood up immediately and switched seats with Adela, shielding her from the cold air.

He'd forgotten. Years ago, I'd slept in a damp, freezing underground parking garage for so long that I couldn't tolerate cold air blowing on me. He used to know that.

"Rose, your makeup looks even better these days." Adela sighed theatrically, one hand resting on her belly. "It's such a shame—now that I'm pregnant, I can't wear any."

Her face was pure provocation.

When Leo noticed my expression souring, he rushed to smooth things over.

"Don't mind her, Rose. Adela doesn't know any better. Don't be so sensitive. She's just joking around."

A cold laugh escaped me. I looked straight at Adela.

"Is that so? With a face that fake, you don't need makeup. You're already wearing a mask."

Leo's expression shifted instantly.

"Rose. That's out of line."

Adela lowered her eyes, lips trembling, tears welling on cue. She excused herself and hurried toward the bathroom.

"Rose Barnes." Leo's voice dropped, each word sharp with disgust. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? From the moment Adela walked in, you've had that look on your face. Fine, take it out on me—but a pregnant woman? Have you no shame? You can't have children, and that's not her fault."