My Husband Got His Secretary Pregnant

I could feel that the three days stretched out before me, each moment heavier than the last.

It was longer than the eight years we had spent together. Longer than every memory we had built.

I smiled faintly, my gaze fixed on him, while my mind counted down the days—three left.

When Julian opens this gift, he will find two things: my abortion surgery form and the divorce agreement. The child will be the last trace of him, the final mark on our broken relationship. It would also be the end of our eight-year marriage.

By then, I would already be long gone—flying far away from this city that had carved deep scars into me. "Audrey" would be a name left behind, forgotten in the dust of the past.

I planned to erase it all. Completely disappear from Julian’s world, without a trace.

After dinner, prepared by Julian himself, I once again drifted into a restless sleep, my body exhausted but my mind still racing.

But in the second half of the night, the pain came.

It started as a dull ache in my lower abdomen, quickly intensifying into sharp, cramping pains. The child had fought so hard to survive, yet now, it could not withstand this cruel stage.

I felt a coldness wash over me as the life within me slowly faded.

I curled up, trying to ease the pain, but when I turned to my side, I noticed the space beside me was empty—his warmth was gone.

It was past three in the morning. Julian was nowhere to be found, and I felt the hollow silence fill the room.

Just as I reached for my phone to message him, my screen lit up with a notification from Hazel.

"Audrey, you’re still asleep? I hope you’re resting well alone."

"I just said I was hungry, so Julian came over in the early morning to make me breakfast, worried that my child and I might be starving! I just had to share this joy with you—thank you for training Julian so well."

She continued, her words dripping with malicious satisfaction.

"I can’t help it, Audrey, Julian cares so much for me and my child. He said that I am different from you, after all, your child was born through surgery, and the genes aren’t healthy or flexible. He doesn’t think much of you at all, but with me, it’s different. He and I are the natural creation of love. I’m definitely better than you!"

This time, Hazel didn't just send me photos. She sent me a video, demanding that I watch it carefully.

In the video, Julian was shirtless, wearing a pink apron, moving around the kitchen. His back was turned to the camera, and the faint outlines of scratches marked his skin—signs of their recent intimacy. It was clear they had just been together, reluctant to part for even a moment.

Hazel’s voice was sweet and teasing, her words dripping with affection. Julian, still with his hands busy, took a strawberry and fed it to her, then gently patted her head as if comforting her.

"Julian, I don't want to be apart from you," she cooed. "Can you stay with me and the child a little longer?"

Julian hesitated for only a second before replying, "Okay, I'll stay for a few more days."

The video ended, but my phone buzzed with a message from Julian.

"Audrey, there’s an urgent meeting at the company. All departments have been called in. I didn’t want to wake you up since you were sleeping so soundly. Stay home with the baby, and I’ll be back in a few days. I’m about to board the plane now."

Along with the text, there was a three-second voice message. His voice, distorted by software, sounded like a distant echo, with the hum of an airport announcement in the background.

And then, a false confession slipped through the static.

"Audrey, I love you."

I didn't respond. I didn’t need to.

The weight of his lies suffocated me, but my resolve only grew stronger.

I wasn’t going to wait around anymore.

The next morning, I forced myself to go to the hospital for the abortion.

When I woke from the anesthesia, everything felt distant—my body heavy, my mind clouded. I was wheeled into a general ward for observation and discharged the following day.

Fortunately, the pregnancy was only a month along, and the physical trauma was minimal. There were no complications after the procedure, and I was able to move around freely. I was discharged quickly.

Back home, I stood in front of the mirror, scissors in hand. I cut my hair, shedding the remnants of the woman I once was, and applied heavy makeup to create my new identity.

I packed only a single set of clothes, leaving everything behind—no belongings, no phone. I didn’t want anything that would tie me to the past. I deliberately avoided the cameras, slipping out of the building unnoticed, taking the stairs down from the dozen floors. I walked through the back entrance of the community, moving quietly into the night.

Julian had no clue. He hadn’t been home for days, still wrapped up in his blissful life with Hazel, pretending to be a family of three.

And that suited me just fine.

Without him in my way, I could leave without a second thought.

I removed my wedding ring and tossed it into the grass, not sparing it another glance. I left without looking back.

Goodbye, Julian.