After My Husband’s Fake Death, He Brought His Pregnant Mistress

“You’re awake, Alexis.” I barely lifted my head and saw Cole watching me with worried eyes.

“Are you alright? You fainted just as I got to your house.”

“I already called President Brooks. He’ll be here soon.”

I said nothing, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I had believed Holden had changed, that he was the man he used to be. But forcing me to drink that sweet soup, knowing I was allergic, all for Claire’s sake. And Brody was gone without a flicker of concern from him.

Hope shattered like glass inside me. Five years of love reduced to a bitter joke. Hot tears spilled freely down my cheeks.

“Alexis, are you okay?” Dad hurried in, breathless.

“I want to go home.” I clung to him, my body trembling, and he rubbed my back gently, trying to soothe me.

“Was it that bastard Holden?”

“Hmm.”

“I knew it. I always knew there was something off about him…”

My father urged me to rest for the night and promised to take me home the next day.

But I tossed and turned endlessly, sleep eluding me like a fading shadow. Quietly, I slipped away, determined to reclaim what was mine. Outside, the car was gone. Holden had already left for the company. Only Claire and her child lingered in the house.

Though my hatred for Claire burned deep, I had no wish to confront her now. I tiptoed upstairs, carefully gathering my things.

I left behind every piece of clothing and jewelry Holden had ever given me. All I took were my personal belongings and a worn iron box filled with the love letters I had written to him, words heavy with heartbreak.

From beneath the guest room bed, I drew out a delicate diamond box. Inside lay the ashes of my son, Nolan. Holden never knew Nolan was gone. He still believed the boy was staying with relatives, just like before.

I placed Nolan’s ashes in the center of the room beside the report from my failed suicide attempt, the one that revealed the miscarriage. Having lost all faith in Holden, I no longer felt the need to hide the painful truth.

Silently, I gathered my belongings and slipped away. Unexpectedly, Claire stirred awake and quietly crept upstairs.

She snatched up the miscarriage report, her eyes scanning the harsh words. Suddenly, the lights flicked on. Holden had returned. Claire hastily concealed the paper in her palm and feigned sleepwalking, staggering drowsily toward the door.

When Holden went to grab clothes and freshen up, the small box on the table caught his eye. He stepped closer, frozen in place, and then his vision blurred as he briefly blacked out.

On the box lay a photo from the day before Nolan’s birthday, taken at a photo studio. Holden stared in disbelief, unable to accept that inside were his son’s ashes. He fumbled for his phone and called me repeatedly, but every call went unanswered.

A heavy wave of helplessness washed over him. “What’s happening? Nolan should still be with relatives for summer break, just like before. How could this be?” Panic gripped his heart.

Desperately, Holden reached out to everyone who might know where I was, but silence met him at every turn. His anxiety deepened.

His eyes scanned the house. My personal belongings were all gone. He fought to control his rising panic. “No, she wouldn’t ignore me. She never has.”

Unable to sit still, Holden grabbed the keys and drove into the night, whispering through clenched teeth, “Alexis, where are you? I’m sorry for what happened today. I was too rash.”

He sent a voice message, but silence answered him once again.

Driven by hope, Holden drove to my parents’ old house, searching for any sign of me. He knocked on the door for nearly half an hour, but no one came.

Just as he was about to give up, he noticed the lights glowing inside. He waited patiently, but still no response came. After being repeatedly turned away, he sighed deeply and left.

Defeated and weary, he turned away, and then suddenly, a spark flickered in his eyes. He rushed to the seaside, that stretch of blue where we had shared our first date.

That place had always been my secret refuge whenever sorrow weighed on me. Holden knew this well. But even there, he searched every corner and still couldn’t find me.

“Alexis, where are you?”

Panting heavily, Holden felt as if a knife pierced his chest. His eyes blurred with unshed tears, and the cold sea breeze only deepened the chill inside him.

He traced every place we had ever been, the theme park, the karaoke bar, the aquarium, but all his efforts were in vain.

Dejected, he returned home to an unusual silence in the early morning. When he flipped on the lights, Claire was nowhere to be found.

Following a faint rustle, he found her in the backyard. To his horror, she was clutching the urn, poised to pour the ashes down the drain.

“Claire, what are you doing?!”