My Husband's Fake Divorce for His Mistress

My hands trembled as I pulled open the drawer where my husband, Dorian, kept his things. Deep inside, hidden beneath layers of other papers, was a document. I unfolded it slowly. It was the name-change form, and there, in black and white, was the name of a boy—one my husband had brought into our lives—and beneath it, his last name: my husband’s.

My heart slammed against my ribs, and my fingers clenched around the paper. The memories of that day came rushing back.

It was our fifth wedding anniversary—Dorian’s and mine.

I had spent the day preparing for what I hoped would be a quiet, intimate celebration, looking forward to a special evening together. But just as I was finishing, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door, expecting Dorian, but instead, there he stood, with a young boy and a woman.

“Aurelia and her son just moved in. They’ll be staying with us for a while.”

No matter how many times I asked, Dorian refused to explain who they were. The more I pressed, the angrier he became.

“They’re just a mother and son. What do you want me to do—leave them on the streets?”

A mother and son? Was it just me, or did their presence—together, so naturally—feel like a family?

Then, on my birthday, Dorian handed me divorce papers. His voice was cold as he said, "Sign them. Quickly. Aurelia needs to apply for citizenship. We’ll just pretend it’s a divorce."

I was stunned, wanting to understand more.

But instead of an explanation, Dorian accused me of being heartless.

Not long after, I saw Aurelia’s post on Facebook.

"Dorian is divorcing for me and my child! Finally, we have a place to call home."

I quietly liked the post, signed the divorce documents, and applied to return to my home country.

---

My manager was surprised when he received my application.

"Evangeline, you worked so hard to move abroad, and now you want to go back?"

I lowered my head with a faint, bitter smile.

"My parents are back home; it's better to return."

Just then, Dorian entered the room.

Hearing my words, he frowned slightly.

"Who's going back?"

I didn't answer and continued my conversation with the manager before ending the call.

Turning around, I found Dorian’s eyes fixed on me intently.

"Who did you just say is going back?"

I deflected, "A colleague is applying to return."

Dorian's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.

"I thought you were planning to go back."

"But then again, after working so hard to be with me, how could you bear to leave?"

As he spoke, he reached out to wrap his arm around my waist.

"Sweetheart, once Aurelia gets her citizenship, let’s have a child."

Dorian has always been like this: one moment cold, the next offering affection.

But this time, I no longer wanted his affection.

I pushed him away and said coldly, "Let’s talk about the future later."

Dorian was taken aback by my words, then softened his tone:

"I'm not used to you not fighting back. I thought you'd put up a big fight over this."

Hearing his words, I felt an immense sense of irony.

Two spouses, clashing fiercely over an outsider.

I chuckled softly.

"After so many arguments, I'm just tired."

Hearing this, Dorian began to blame me for our previous fights about Aurelia.

He said I didn’t understand him, and that every argument broke his heart.

Dorian has always been like this.

Pushing boundaries.

As soon as I took a step back, he took a hundred forward.

For so many years, I was the one giving in.

He mentioned wanting to move abroad, so I left my parents behind and applied for a job transfer.

He said he didn’t want kids yet, so I told my parents it was my decision.

But in the end, all my sacrifices couldn’t match a single word from Aurelia.

I stood up and looked at him quietly.

"I won't argue with you anymore."

Dorian looked at me, satisfied.

"That's good. Aurelia and I are just friends; don’t get jealous."

"If..."

I finished his sentence:

"If there were anything between us, you wouldn’t have a chance."

I've heard this countless times.

Dorian nodded contentedly.

"I'm glad you understand."

I said quietly, "I should have realized this long ago."

I should have known that in Dorian’s heart, I didn't matter as much as Aurelia.

Just then, a young voice called from outside the door.

"Daddy... Daddy..."

"Come play racing with me, Mom is terrible at it."

Dorian instinctively stood up and replied.

Just as he was about to leave, he turned back to me and said:

"I’m going to play with Finnian for a bit. He's just a little boy, and Aurelia..."

I cut him off.

"No need to explain so much. I trust you."

Dorian hesitated for a moment, then said, "As long as you trust me," and left.

Since the first day Aurelia’s son moved in, he started calling Dorian "Daddy."

I once told him I felt uncomfortable with it.

Dorian scolded me:

"Evangeline, how can you be so heartless? Finnian is just a child; it's already tough enough for him without a father."

Every time Finnian called out, it once pained me.

But this time, I felt nothing.

I touched the spot over my heart.

A genuine smile spread across my face.

Once you decide not to love someone, they can't hurt you.