My Husband Wants To Have A Test-tube Baby With His Junior, So I’m Suing Him For Bigamy

The lawyer gave me a quick look when she heard those words. I let out a bitter laugh and was about to end the call.

“Wait, Naomi.”

The camera shook as she jogged a few steps, then pointed it at Lucas. He was talking to a doctor, jotting notes in a notebook as the doctor explained post-IVF procedure precautions.

“Hey, future dad, look here!”

Lucas heard her and turned to look. When he saw me on the other end of the video call, he did not seem annoyed at all. Instead, his face lit up with excitement.

“Honey, your man is a freaking legend! One shot, and boom—nailed it! The doc says the IVF worked, and pretty soon, I'll be a dad!"

“Too bad you’re not here. Otherwise, we’d be celebrating tonight for sure!"

“Oh, by the way, since our teacher is seriously ill, taking care of Rachel throughout her pregnancy and postpartum recovery will be your responsibility!”

Rachel clung to his arm, looking pleased. “Naomi, I’ll be counting on you!”

He expected me to care for his pregnant mistress and help her recover after giving birth?

I almost burst into laughter from utter disbelief.

Did Lucas truly believe I was some saint sent from heaven?

He had a baby with another woman through IVF. Now he expected me to play the unpaid nanny?!

My hands trembled as I ended the call. Then, I pressed the save recording button and forwarded the video to my lawyer.

“With this video and the evidence I provided earlier, is that enough?”

Lucas and I had been together for ten years, starting as high school sweethearts and eventually becoming husband and wife.

Before our wedding, I spent an entire month compiling our love story into a heartfelt, touching memoir.

However, reality hit me hard.

Looking back, all those seemingly sweet memories were full of cracks.

At some point, Lucas lost the patience and tenderness he once showed me.

The man who used to prioritize me began criticizing me for not being considerate or supportive enough.

Sometimes, he would explode over the smallest things, turning minor problems into big arguments.

Yet, after every fight, as long as he coaxed me a little, I would always choose to forgive him.

School pressure, then work stress after graduation, made life tough for us both.

Life was not easy for any adult. I felt it was my duty as his partner to be understanding and endure.

I loved him, so I kept compromising, until there was nothing left of me to give.

Two years ago, our high school homeroom teacher’s daughter returned from studying abroad.

Rachel and Lucas hit it off instantly. He even helped Rachel get a job at his company as his assistant.

Day in and day out, they arrived and left together, stealing glances at work and using overtime as an excuse to stay glued to each other after hours.

When my parents visited me in North City, they accidentally ran into Lucas and Rachel strolling down the street, chatting and laughing like an inseparable couple.

Later, when they casually brought it up in conversation, Lucas’s expression instantly turned cold. He lashed out, accusing them of not trusting him.

Still, the reality was, my parents just mentioned it casually. It was Lucas who felt guilty.

That night, he did not come home for dinner.

I texted him, but he did not reply. When I called, he ignored it. My parents felt guilty and tried to comfort me.

“Naomi, it’s not that we don’t trust Lucas… Well, we shouldn’t have said anything.”

The next morning, they left in a hurry, skipping breakfast.

That day, Lucas and I had our first explosive argument.

When we finally calmed down, he acted all hurt and confused, not understanding why I was upset.

However, he seemed to forget that ever since he met my parents, they had treated him like their own son.

No, it was worse than that. In fact, they were even more cautious around him than they would be with a real son.

After that, he always found excuses to avoid visiting my hometown.

Whenever my parents asked, I covered for him, making up reasons on his behalf. I even bought nutritional supplements for them, pretending they were from him, as though he still cared.

Looking back, I realize I was fooling myself.

I used to believe that love born in a school setting was the purest of all. Yet, I forgot that love was not family. It had an expiration date, and if it was not preserved properly, it would rot and decay.

The moment Lucas suggested having a test-tube baby with Rachel on our wedding night, I finally woke up.

My love had died long ago.

So had my marriage.