The Day My Childhood Sweetheart Came to Kill Me

On my birthday, my wife’s childhood sweetheart burst in, clutching a child.

He kicked over the banquet table in front of me, eyes blazing.

“Ivy, give us father and son an answer right now. How long will you keep us waiting?”

That was when I learned the truth—my wife, who had always claimed to be allergic to proteins from the opposite sex, had secretly given birth to her ex’s child.

No wonder she never let me touch her. No wonder she refused to have children with me.

She already had one—with another man. And now, that man had come to my doorstep.

“Ivy James,” I said coldly, “you’d better explain yourself today, even if it kills you. Why did you betray me?”

Her expression was calm, but her tone was sharp.

“My body is mine. I can have a baby with whoever I want. It’s the twenty-first century—why are some people still so old-fashioned?”

I laughed bitterly, then slapped her.

“I won’t live as a fool. We’re going to the lawyer right now to draft a divorce agreement.”

——

The room erupted into chaos, yet everyone stayed silent, eyes glued to our family’s disgrace.

Ryan Lewis pointed at me, face red with fury.

“Ethan Grant, listen carefully! Ivy doesn’t love you—she never did. The one she’s always loved is me!”

He jabbed a finger toward my chest. “She’s not allergic to anything. That was just an excuse to keep you from touching her.”

“You forced her into this marriage, using your power to pressure her father. You destroyed what we had—two people who loved each other! Because of you, she’s lived in misery, and my son has been denied a normal life.”

He clutched the child tighter. “Do you know how pitiful he is? A child without a mother—how cruel!”

His voice echoed through the hall, bouncing off the walls.

My mother, trembling with anger, clutched her chest. She wanted to speak, to defend me, but the pain in her heart was too much.

Seeing her falter, I felt panic and dread crawling through me. Yet everyone’s eyes turned on me with scorn, as if I were the villain.

I couldn’t understand it. I was the husband—the one who’d been cheated on. My wife had another man’s child, yet I was the one despised?

Then came the whispers, the judgmental murmurs.

“I never thought it would turn out this way,” someone sighed. “A pair of true lovers torn apart by a powerful man. Forced apart, they still found their way back to each other in secret.”

“How tragic,” another said.

“Ethan’s really heartless,” someone muttered. “So cruel…”

“Despicable! We used to admire him for his charity work, and now this has come to light? How shameless!”

I blinked in disbelief. Charity? Crime? What were they even talking about?

My fists clenched. “Crimes? Did I kill someone? Burn your houses down?”

My roar silenced the room. For a brief moment, no one dared speak.

Then I turned to Ivy again—the woman who had lied to me for years. I stared at her face, once gentle and kind, now cold and unfamiliar.

“Ivy,” I said hoarsely, “tell me—why did I ever marry you?”

She hesitated, her eyes darting between Ryan and me. Then the child in his arms began to cry. Instinctively, she rushed forward and took him.

That sight shattered the end of my restraint. Watching her cradle that child—his child—ignited a fury deep within me.

I remembered the day she brought the boy home, saying he was a distant relative’s son who needed care. My mother and I accepted him without question. We treated him like our own, showered him with affection.

And all that time, he was hers.

The truth sliced through me like a blade.

Everything—our marriage, her excuses, her distance—had been built on lies.

The woman I once adored had betrayed me so completely that even the walls of my home felt foreign.

As the guests whispered and judged, as Ryan held his head high and Ivy comforted her child, I stood there surrounded by ruins—of love, of trust, of everything I once believed in.

And for the first time that night, I realized what true humiliation felt like.