I Asked For Divorce When His Mistress Returned

Today was our third wedding anniversary. I'd cooked a homemade dinner and called my husband that evening, but the line was busy. Every time. By midnight, the food on the table had gone cold, and he still wasn't home. Maybe it was the waiting getting to me, because a sudden, sharp pain twisted through my stomach.

Then my phone rang—his ringtone. I grabbed it. “Where have you been? Why weren't you picking up?” I asked, panic already creeping into my voice.

His voice was cold. Distant. “Pack your bags and find somewhere else to stay for a while.”

I froze, panic licking up my spine. I didn't understand. Why would he want me to leave? “Did something happen?” I asked instinctively.

“Leilani's back. She doesn't like staying in hotels,” he said coolly.

The name Leilani Olson made my heart stutter. I'd never met her, but I knew my husband, Carlos Richards, had been in love with her for ten years.

Outside, the rain was coming down harder, and the pain in my abdomen sharpened. “Now?” I gripped the phone tighter and stared at the lightning flashing outside the window. It hurt to breathe. “But today is our…”

“Yes. Now.”

The words “wedding anniversary” sat on the tip of my tongue, but Carlos cut me off, impatient, and hung up. Once he made up his mind, there was no negotiating.

Trembling, I got up and drank a big mug of warm coffee. By the time I'd packed through the pain, the taxi I'd ordered was already outside.

“Miss, you okay?” the driver asked, concerned, as he got out to help with my luggage.

I managed a small shake of my head. “Thanks, I'm—”

Before I could finish, a sharp pain tore through my abdomen and brought me to my knees.

At the hospital, I lay in bed with an IV in my arm. “You're eleven weeks pregnant,” the doctor said, holding the test results, his face serious. “But you're dangerously fatigued, and the pregnancy is at risk. The pain you had today was a warning. If you want to keep this baby, I'd recommend admitting you for observation.”

I stared down at my belly, stunned. We'd used protection every time. But a little over two months ago, he'd been drunk, and I'd driven him home. Just once. In the car. And now I was carrying his child.

“Where's the father? It would be best if he could bring you something to eat. After the IV, you'll need to eat something,” the doctor advised.

I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it. This baby had come out of nowhere. How would Carlos react if he knew? Would he even want to keep it?

After the doctor left, I wrestled with it for a long time. Finally, I decided to tell Carlos.

He picked up quickly.

“Carlos…”

“Carlos is in the shower. Who's this?” a woman's sweet voice answered. “I'll let him know to call you back.”

It was the first time I'd heard Leilani's voice. He'd brought her home already. So quickly.

“Is it for me?” Carlos's deep voice came through. He must have taken the phone from her, because when he spoke again, his tone was cold. “What is it?”

Even with the heat turned up in my room, I felt chilled to the bone. “I…” The words I'd rehearsed lodged in my throat. “I'm pregnant” was harder to say than I'd imagined.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, when Leilani screamed on the other end. “Ah!”

“Leilani, what happened?” I'd never heard Carlos sound so panicked.

“I tried to peel some fruit for you and cut my hand…” Her voice was full of practiced helplessness.

“Does it hurt? Let's get you to a hospital!” Concern bled into Carlos's voice before the call cut off.

The phone slipped from my hand onto the bed. I clutched the sheets, my chest so tight I could barely breathe. Three years of marriage, and I still hadn't managed to touch his heart. How ironic was that?

An hour later, I checked myself out and left the hospital alone, dragging my suitcase behind me.

The elevator stopped on the third floor.

“You insisted on dragging me here for something a Band-Aid could fix,” a woman pouted as the doors slid open.

I looked up instinctively—and met Carlos's dark eyes. Beside him stood a petite, pretty woman holding his arm, her face glowing.

They looked perfect together. I didn't need to ask. It was Leilani.

The faint smile on Carlos's face vanished the second he saw me, replaced by that familiar indifference.

“Carlos, hurry up and get in!” Leilani called, pressing the door-open button and smiling sweetly as she motioned him inside.

Carlos stepped in and narrowed his eyes at me. With just the three of us in that elevator, discomfort crawled over my skin.

Part of me wanted to know if Leilani could still smile at me if she knew about my relationship with Carlos. But I didn't dare. Even if Carlos didn't love me, I couldn't bear the thought of him hating me completely.

The one-minute ride felt like a year. When the doors finally opened on the ground floor, I hurried out—only to hear Carlos call after me. “Hold on.”

His voice was deep and magnetic, but there was no warmth in it—nothing like the way he spoke to Leilani. Some people only ever love once in their lives. Carlos loved Leilani. I loved Carlos.

“Leilani, wait for me in the car,” he said softly, handing her the keys before stepping out after me.

As the doors slid shut, I caught Leilani's expression—shock, anger, and reluctance. She'd guessed who I was.

Carlos's brow furrowed. “What are you doing at the hospital?” he asked coldly.

I forced myself to stop and answer casually. “Visiting a friend.”

“At this hour? With luggage?” His tone sharpened, and he let out a cynical laugh. “Adele, your lies are getting more pathetic.”

To him, I'd always been manipulative and deceitful. He'd been forced into marrying me. Our families were bound by an alliance, and when my family was on the brink of bankruptcy three years ago, I went to Carlos's grandfather and asked him to make Carlos marry me.

Carlos hadn't wanted to. But his grandfather pressured him for the family's honor, leaving him no choice. I became his wife—and the obstacle between him and Leilani.

I loved him with a devotion that humiliated me. He hated me with everything he had.

“Still not going to tell me the truth?” Displeasure hardened his handsome face, his voice dropping dangerously low. “If you want something, just ask. Stop playing games.”

He'd only stopped me to talk because he was worried I might hurt his one true love. Carlos, I want you to love me. I want to bring our child into this world. But you'll never be able to give me that.

My nose stung. I looked at him for a long moment, then said, my voice hoarse, “I want a divorce.”