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We Swore No Kids… Then She Conceived Novel Cover

We Swore No Kids… Then She Conceived

Returning from a six-month business trip, a husband discovers his wife, Vanessa Hudson, is three months pregnant. Though she denies cheating, her ex-boyfriend Harold Quinton publicly thanks her for undergoing IVF to carry his child. Despite Harold’s medical struggles, the clinical betrayal via egg retrieval and implantation is undeniable. Devastated by the lies, the husband accepts a distant overseas position and finally asks Vanessa for a divorce.
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Chapter 2

Two years ago, she was afraid of developing stretch marks. So, she begged me to agree to abort our unborn child.

"I don't want kids. Giving birth alters your appearance. If I become ugly, you're not going to love me anymore," she cried.

The news was too much for my grandmother, who had always wanted great-grandchildren. Unfortunately, she passed away due to emotional distress. Due to her passing, my parents and I grew distant.

I understood her desire to stay beautiful. Hence, from that day onward, I never pressured her to have children again. But now, she had broken her own principles for another man. By doing so, she had turned my love for her into a complete joke.

"Aren't you going to tell me the truth, Vanessa? What's going on with you and Harold?" I asked again.

"Since you've already found out, there's no point in hiding it from you anymore. That's right—I'm pregnant. I'm already three months along."

I scoffed wryly. "You're finally admitting it."

"What did I ever do to you? How could you degrade yourself and have a child with someone else?" I shouted, my voice laced with grief and anger. "Go to the hospital with me right now and terminate the pregnancy."

"That's not happening. Harold has erectile dysfunction. His mom wants to meet her grandchildren before she dies. Can't you be more generous? You're such a petty man."

"What about my grandmother?" I shot back. "She wanted great-grandchildren too! She treated you well, and she was always thinking of you. But you crushed her hopes and let her pass away with regrets. Do you have no empathy?"

I let out a wry laugh. Unable to think straight, I marched toward Vanessa and grabbed her arm. Then, I started dragging her toward the door.

"We're going to the hospital," I demanded. "If you want this marriage to work, you'll have to abort the baby."

All of a sudden, I felt a sharp sting on my cheek. My head began to ring, and my mind went blank.

Vanessa had slapped me hard across the face.

"Are you done? This is my baby! What I choose to do with it is none of your business!" she snapped.

The slap made me see everything clearly. My face felt cold, and I soon realized I was crying.

I thought I'd gone numb a long time ago. I didn't cry when Vanessa aborted our baby, and I didn't cry when my grandmother died. I also didn't cry when my parents cut ties with me. But now, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

I had never truly gotten over any of those events. All I did was push them aside and bury my feelings.

Upon seeing me cry, Vanessa stepped forward and put on an act of concern.

"I didn't sleep with Harold. You know he has erectile dysfunction. I only agreed to this because I felt sorry for him and his mother. I'll give birth to the baby, and after that, we can go back to our own lives."

Her shameless statements made me sick. There was no future for us anymore.

Yanking my arm away from her, I looked her straight in the eyes and declared, "Let's get a divorce."

"When are you going to stop acting out? I told you—I didn't cheat on you. After the baby is born, I'll still be with you. What more do you want from me?"

"I don't care about whether or not you've slept with Harold, and I won't ask about it again," I said flatly. "There's no future for us. I want a divorce."

"No way. I won't agree to it. You're not thinking clearly right now, so I'm not going to argue with you. Calm down and reconsider the situation by yourself."

With that, she stormed out of the house and slammed the door shut behind her.

It was late. There was only one place she could go to at this hour, but I couldn't care less about her. She could do whatever she wanted.

The soup she made me had already gone cold. I picked up the bowl and gradually finished its contents.

This was the last time I'd ever taste her cooking. Once I was done with my meal, we would have nothing to do with each other ever again.

I took one last look around the house and packed my bags without any hesitation. Afterward, I took all my belongings and headed to a hotel.

After graduating from university, I joined a Fortune Global 500 company and steadily worked my way up to a senior executive role. Meanwhile, Vanessa had been a full-time housewife all these years and had no income of her own.

The house was filled with memories of us, and those memories made me feel sick. So, I had no intention of fighting for the ownership of the place.

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