The Truth Behind My Divorce After Six Childfree Years

In the third year of our marriage, he cheated on me with Fiona, a law student we were sponsoring.

We intend to contribute to society and recruit excellent talent for law firms.

Fiona was indeed outstanding. She landed a major case right after joining the firm, her sharp wit and unique legal insights quickly making her a rising star.

They had endless things to talk about, countless case insights to share.

They often argued heatedly, then smiled at each other.

Finally, they ended up in bed together.

Aunt Wendy brought in gourmet soup, interrupting my jumbled memories.

I touched my face and realized it was cold.

Suddenly, I realized I had unconsciously shed tears, something I hadn’t done in a long time.

I tossed the fake medical report into the shredder, straightened my clothes, and sat down at the low table.

I think I’d cried all my tears three years ago; back then, tears flowed like a tap, plentiful but worthless.

After Fiona joined the firm, she called me “Nicole” and became like family.

On the day she landed a nationally renowned case, I specially bought a cake to celebrate.

On my way home, I saw Michael’s car. That day, I suddenly felt like teasing them, and as I was about to get out of my car, I suddenly appeared in front of them.

I watched him cross the traffic light, watched him get further and further away from home, and finally stop in front of a secluded hotel.

I watched them go into the room, naturally undress, and embrace. I went crazy, grabbing Fiona’s hair and slapping her face.

That day, Michael grabbed me and threw me against the wall, just like when I was ten years old, blood streaming down my forehead and face.

Back then, his eyes were full of anger; he slashed a neighbor’s neck with a knife, and cried while holding me.

Now, his eyes are still full of anger, but he’s holding another woman.

“You’re crazy! Fiona is pregnant! Are you trying to kill my child?”

I stood there, stunned. They already had a child? I don’t know how many times they’d slept together.

I angrily lunged at Fiona, pounding on her.

“You slut, whose bastard are you carrying? Have you no shame?”

Fiona huddled in Michael’s arms, her face swollen and red, strands of her hair clinging to her face with tears.

“Nicole, I know I’ve wronged you, but how could you call Michael’s child a bastard?”

“Nicole, don’t worry, I won’t compete with you for Mrs. Shaw’s position. I just feel sorry for Michael, such an outstanding man, who doesn’t have his own bloodline. I beg you, let me give birth to his child to repay his kindness.”

As she spoke, she knelt down, about to kowtow to me.

Michael pulled her into a tight embrace, his eyes filled with heartache.

“Fiona, it’s not your fault, it’s my fault.”

He then glanced coldly at me.

“Nicole, how can you be so heartless? Who is Fiona doing this for?”

I slapped Michael across the face, my lips trembling.

“Michael, you bastard!”

“She slept with my husband, and I should thank her? She’s a slut, a treacherous and vicious woman.”

Before I could utter the words that he couldn’t possibly have a child, Michael slapped me across the face.

“Nicole, I won’t allow you to say that about Fiona. She’s the mother of my child.”

I stared at Michael in shock. So, he already had Fiona in his heart.

Perhaps because my expression was too sorrowful and disheveled, Michael’s expression softened, and he gently stroked my face.

“Nicole, I just want a child of my own. As long as you don’t make a fuss, this child can recognize you as its mother.”

“Fiona is a loyal and devoted person. She won’t take your place or compete with you for anything. Please be magnanimous and accept her, okay?”