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One Pretend Husband, One Real One Novel Cover

One Pretend Husband, One Real One

After thirty-three grueling rounds of IVF, Ms. Jacobson finally goes into labor, only to face a life-threatening hemorrhage. Her husband, Malcolm Thorpe, signs a consent form before abandoning her for his childhood sweetheart's party. However, the surgeon reveals a shocking truth: her marriage is legally nonexistent. The delay leads to the tragic loss of her newborn. Devastated by the betrayal, she signs the cremation papers and calls Samuel to meet at City Hall.
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Chapter 2

For days, Malcolm was nowhere to be found. I learned from Instagram that he had been glued to Ashley's side.

He had sent an endless stream of luxury gifts to her bedside. He even rented the giant billboard across from the hospital and ran his well-wishes for her on a 24-hour loop.

Ashley posted a photo of tightly interlaced hands. The caption read, "I'm the happiest woman in the world."

Under the doctor's sympathetic gaze, I signed my own discharge papers and left the hospital without a word.

That day, Malcolm finally called, sounding annoyed. "Where's the baby? Why won't they let me see our child?"

"I haven't fully recovered, and you're clearly busy. So, I left the baby with my parents."

He caught the sarcasm in my voice and, for once, sounded a little guilty. "You've been through so much. When I—"

I hung up without a shred of mercy, hoping he'd be this calm when he learned the truth.

Back home, I told the maid to pack up all my things. Every little thing there was a memory of Malcolm and me.

There was the limited-edition plush he stood in line 12 hours to get for me, and the charm he swore would keep me safe. He'd gone to the cathedral and brought it to me when I'd just gotten pregnant.

But none of it came close to what he gave Ashley.

I lit a fire and burned them clean.

I was set to go abroad with Samuel, and the visa would take five days to process. All I wanted was a quiet end to the time I had left.

But Malcolm wasn't going to allow that. He burst in, grabbed me by the collar, and yanked until I was almost choking. "Giselle! Where did you hide Ashley?"

"I don't know," I forced out.

His eyes went dark. "You'd better be telling the truth, or else, I won't spare you."

Then, he flung me aside.

I gulped for air and couldn't help asking, "Malcolm, do you remember I'm your wife?"

He stopped short and tossed out a quick excuse. "Don't overthink it. Before Ashley's mother died, she asked me to look after Ashley. I only see her as my sister."

With that, he walked off without looking back.

I laughed at myself. Even when I disappeared on a two-week business trip, he didn't so much as check in on me. But now, he was worrying plenty about this "sister".

I went to the embassy to submit the paperwork. When I got back, Malcolm had already found Ashley.

"Silly goose, where did you run off to? Since you're pregnant, just have the baby. I'll take good care of both of you."

But Ashley shook her head. "No! I won't let the baby be born without a father."

Anxious, Malcolm blurted, "You're my legal wife! How could the baby not have a father?"

A sour sting rose in my chest, and I didn't realize I'd stepped on a dry leaf. It crunched loudly.

Only then did they look my way.

Malcolm panicked. "How long have you been there? How much have you heard?"

I shook my head. "I just got back."

He let out a breath, then faltered. "Ashley might need to stay here for a bit, Gigi. Is that okay?"

I smiled and headed for my room. "Even if I said no, would it matter?"

Malcolm couldn't help raising his voice. "Giselle!"

Ashley cut in. "I'm a little hungry, Mal. I heard Gigi cooks well. Could you ask her to make me something?"

At that, Malcolm hesitated. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Immediately, Ashley's mouth twisted, and her tears spilled. "I knew it. I shouldn't have barged into someone else's home and made a fool of myself. It's fine. I'll leave now."

Hearing that, Malcolm jumped in. "Giselle, you're the lady of the house. Go take care of Ashley, now!"

Not wanting to make things messier, I headed to the kitchen and made her a dish. When Malcolm saw it, he froze for a beat.

It was pork stew with pears.

Pear, as in "pair". I used to joke I'd make it the day we stopped being one.

Without noticing the subtle shift in Malcolm’s expression, Ashley had already taken the stew. She'd barely had a bite when she jolted and dumped the plate on me.

I stood there, a mess, stew dripping off me, while she covered her mouth like she hadn't meant it.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry. It was too hot, and I wasn't holding it properly…"

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