Lost My Husband When His Mistress Got Pregnant

"Nothing, just my colleague’s wife came by to visit him."

"But didn’t you just say you were in a meeting?" Madeline’s voice held a hint of suspicion.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before the voice shifted gears. "The meeting just ended. Madeline, is what you wanted to say really that important?"

Madeline gently placed a hand on her still-flat belly. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her voice bubbled with excitement. "Yes. You’re going to be so happy."

At nine o’clock that evening, Madeline had prepared a spread of Nathaniel’s favorite dishes, eagerly awaiting his return with the news that would change their lives forever.

The door opened, and Nathaniel stepped in, rubbing his tired eyes. As soon as he saw her, Madeline rushed to greet him. "Nathaniel, you’re home!"

He pulled her into a tight embrace, the exhaustion melting from his face as he kissed the top of her head. "I’m home."

Madeline breathed in deeply, noticing the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something unfamiliar—a faint perfume. She frowned, confused. His colleagues were all men. Where did this scent come from?

Before she could dwell on it, Nathaniel took her hand and led her to the dining table. "Why the sudden feast? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, I have great news to share," she said with a glint in her eyes. "But first, go shower. You smell."

She gently pushed him toward the bathroom, her irritation flaring slightly. The scent on him was making her feel uneasy, though she couldn’t quite place why.

"Alright, I’ll be quick," he said, setting down his coat and phone before heading to the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of running water filled the air.

Madeline paced nervously, her heart racing with excitement. Over and over in her mind, she repeated the words she would say to him, her face glowing with joy.

"Ding Dong." The doorbell interrupted her thoughts.

Nathaniel’s phone, left on the table, pinged with a new message. Madeline glanced at it, noticing an unfamiliar number. But when she saw the content, her heart stopped.

"My stomach hurts so much, it seems like I’m about to give birth, Nathan, I’m so scared, can you come and be with me?"

"Nathan, the baby isn’t moving, is something wrong? Can you take me to the hospital?"

Madeline picked up the phone with trembling hands. The lock screen displayed a picture of her sleeping face, and as she stared at it, hot tears blurred her vision. The words on the screen felt like a slap in the face. In the past, friends had joked about Nathaniel being a henpecked husband, but now, seeing the message, his supposed deep affection felt so hollow, so cheap.

Just then, Nathaniel emerged from the bathroom, wiping his damp hair. He walked over, noticing Madeline sitting motionless at the dining table. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, pulling her into a half-hug, his voice soft. "What’s wrong? Are you worried about the results tomorrow?"

Madeline, her eyes unfocused, held his hand and asked absently, "Nathaniel, what would you do if I couldn’t get pregnant?"

Nathaniel gently turned her face to him, pressing his lips to hers. As he kissed her, he whispered against her lips, his voice low and soothing. "Madeline, the IVF process is too hard. I can’t bear to see you suffer like this. If it doesn’t work, we won’t have a baby."

Madeline’s heart shattered, the pain coursing through her as if it were tearing her apart. She fought to keep her composure and asked through the knot in her throat, "Don’t you want children?"

He hesitated, then pulled back slightly, his gaze steady and sincere. "You are the most important person in my life. Without you, nothing else matters."

Madeline let out a bitter laugh, a hollow sound that didn’t reach her eyes. She had never realized how skilled Nathaniel was at lying, at pretending. He could tell her he loved her while building a life with another woman.

She suddenly thought about the countless times he’d worked overtime this year. Was he really working late, or was he spending time with someone else?

His hand, which had been resting on her lower back, began to wander, his warm breath brushing against her neck. His breathing grew heavier