My Wife Had a Baby with Another Man, So I Got Remarried

"Yeah, of course I know. I was there when the pregnancy was first confirmed. Miss Hayes cried on the spot—they must really be in love."

I looked down at the countless wounds on my body and let out a bitter laugh.

So this... was the difference between love and indifference.

But it didn’t matter anymore. If she no longer love me, I didn’t want her either.

Because the hospital was crowded, by the time my injuries were treated and I made it home, it was already past midnight.

I opened the door—and saw Harvey sitting comfortably on the living room sofa—the one I had personally picked out.

Upon seeing me, he stood up quickly and beamed, "Peter, you're back! Andrea is in the kitchen making bird’s nest soup for me. Want a bowl?"

Before I could answer, Andrea came rushing over.

"Peter, the doctor said I’ve been showing signs of prenatal depression and having trouble sleeping, so I asked him to stay here for a few days to keep me company."

“I promise, once the due date arrives, I’ll take him and leave. You—”

Before she could finish, I pulled out a blank divorce agreement from my pocket and handed it to her.

“You can. But I want your signature first.”

She froze, hesitated for a moment, and was just about to flip it open when Harvey called out behind her, “Andrea, I’m hungry. When will the bird’s nest soup be ready?”

In his words, she signed the papers in a hurry, turned around, and went back to the kitchen.

I stood there in silence, watching her carefully stir the soup with hands I had once done everything to protect.

Seven years of marriage, and this was the first time she'd ever stepped into the kitchen.

"Are you jealous, Peter?" Harvey suddenly asked beside me, his voice laced with smugness.

"Andrea said she'll take care of everything for me and the baby from now on."

I turned to see the provocation in his eyes—the gleam of pride and victory.

It made my stomach turn.

This house, which Andrea once swore would belong to just the two of us, had clearly changed.

Without another word, I turned and headed straight upstairs, determined to pack and leave for good.

But when I reached the bedroom door, I was stunned.

All my personal belongings had been thrown into a messy pile at the door.

And the wedding photo that used to hang on the wall had been ripped to shreds and tossed into the trash.

"Andrea said I could choose any room I wanted," Harvey said from behind me, practically gloating. "This one seemed the biggest, so I picked it. She just threw out the extra stuff."

He paused for a moment, as if savoring my reaction.

"Wait... was this yours and Andrea's wedding room? Oh no, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll move my things out right away...”

If this had been in the past, I would have argued with Andrea on the spot.

But now, I am determined to leave. Who stayed in this room no longer concerned me.

I replied flatly, “No need. You can keep it.”

Then, without another word, I dumped the entire pile of my belongings into the trash in front of him.

I turned to retrieve the photo of my late mother and leave.

But when I opened the drawer, it was empty.

Panicked, I dropped to my knees and began searching the floor.

Harvey stood beside me, looming over me like a victor watching the defeated.

"Looking for this, Peter?" he said.

I looked up—and saw him holding the familiar photo frame.

Just as I was about to stand and take it, he let go.

The frame hit the floor and shattered into pieces.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry—slipped right out of my hand,” he said, feigning guilt.

“I thought that photo looked kind of unlucky, you know? I was afraid it might upset the baby, so I told Andrea. She said I could deal with it however I wanted.”

He crouched slightly, examining the broken frame. “So, who’s the dead person in this photo? Do you know them?”

His tone was innocent, almost curious.

However, I couldn't take it anymore.

I raised my hand, ready to slap him across the face—but before I could make contact, he suddenly threw himself backward and tumbled dramatically down the stairs.

“Ahhh—Andrea! Help me!”

Clutching his stomach, he groaned in pain.

Andrea came running from the kitchen, saw him on the floor, and immediately lost it.

She stormed up the stairs, furious, and with a single kick, knocked me to the ground as she screamed.