Ten Years and a Secret Son

I watched him, disgusted, as he masterfully deflected every ounce of blame.

I said slowly, "You told me you hated kids. You said a life with just the two of us was your dream. Was all of that a lie? You just wanted to keep me happy while you built your precious family line on the side?"

Caleb froze, realizing he'd said too much. His tone softened again, becoming a pathetic whine. "Avery, it's not like that… I had no choice… Please, believe me. You're the only one I love. It's always been you."

I couldn't stand to hear another lie.

The slam of the front door cut off whatever else he was about to say.

I got in my car and started the engine. I drove for miles on autopilot, only realizing my face was wet with tears when my vision blurred.

I found the number I had saved but never dared to dial. "Mr. Thorne, this is Avery Hayes. I want Caleb to walk away from this divorce with absolutely nothing."

A calm, professional voice replied from the other end. "Understood, Ms. Hayes."

…

The next day, I hosted the opening reception for a new artist's exhibition I had curated, just as planned. I had just finished my opening remarks when a series of shrieks erupted from the edge of the crowd.

A sudden commotion at the entrance sent a jolt of alarm through me. It was Sloane. She was dragging her son along, her eyes red and puffy. She looked like a wild animal.

The moment she spotted me, she lunged forward. Before she even spoke, tears were already streaming down her face. "Avery! You owe me an explanation!"

Every head in the gallery—VIPs and media alike—swiveled in our direction.

"I'm pregnant with Caleb's second child! Are you trying to drive a helpless mother and her children to their deaths?"

Her son, terrified by her hysterics, burst into loud, wailing sobs.

Gasps rippled through the gallery, followed by a wave of shocked murmurs.

Then, Sloane dropped to her knees before me, just as Caleb had, and clutched the hem of my dress. "Please, Avery… for the sake of the child in my belly… let us go!"

Her cries echoed through the high-ceilinged hall. The whispers grew louder, colored with judgment.

"I never thought Avery Hayes was that kind of person…"

"How cruel. That poor woman is on her knees begging."

"She always seems so put-together… I guess you never know…"

I was trembling with a cold, hard rage. "Save the theatrics, Sloane. It won't work on me. Let go of me and get out of my gallery."

I pulled out my phone, put it on speaker, and called Caleb. "Sloane is making a scene at my gallery. Get down here and handle your mess. Now."

…

Ten minutes later, he rushed in, breathless and sweating. The moment Sloane saw him, her cries intensified into a pitiful wail. "Caleb… darling, it hurts… the baby… our baby…"

Caleb reacted instantly, rushing to her side and murmuring soothingly, "Don't get worked up, don't scare yourself. Be careful—think of the baby…"

It was a tenderness, a protectiveness he had never once afforded me in our ten years together.

The expressions on my clients' faces shifted from confusion to outright disgust. I could feel the waves of condemnation washing over me, the public humiliation branding me an outcast.

My cold gaze locked onto Caleb. "Caleb, remember this moment. I will remember every second of this disgusting charade you two have performed today. You are the one who pushed this past the point of no return. So don't you dare blame me for what comes next."

With that, I straightened my back and strode out of the gallery without a single backward glance.

Just then, my phone buzzed. A text from my mother-in-law. "Since you know everything, let's talk. Tomorrow, three p.m., private room at Gramercy Tavern."

I clutched my phone, its glow reflecting in my determined eyes. They had no idea who they were dealing with.