FINALLY CONFESSED ( PHOTO SCANDAL)

Finally, I called a taxi and left.

Two weeks had passed since the last time I truly saw James. He came and went like a stranger living under the same roof. Coming and leaving. Leaving and coming. Each time I tried to bring up the topic of my pregnancy, he found a reason to walk away.

“I’m busy.” “Another time.” “Not now.”

I did not know what to do anymore.

My body felt weak, and my heart felt even weaker. That evening, I sat quietly in the living room with a cup of juice in my hands, staring into nothing, when the door opened.

James walked in.

“James,” I called softly.

He looked at me, his expression impatient. “What is it?”

“We need to talk.”

“I’m busy.”

“No,” I said, surprising even myself. “This is very important.”

“I said I’m busy,” he snapped. “We can talk some other time.”

“James, please,” I begged. “This is important.”

He stopped walking. Slowly, he turned back to me. I could not believe it. I had defied him. Me. The obedient wife who never raised her voice.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “This is because of Vanessa, right? We are not like this. Why are you behaving this way?”

I stood up, my hands trembling. “James, you just leave every time. You don’t even stay long enough to listen.”

“Listen to what?” he demanded.

I took a deep breath, my chest tightening. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?” His eyes widened.

“I thought you would have noticed by now,” I said weakly. “I’m almost a month along. You’ve been so busy caring about your first love that you didn’t even bother to notice me.”

Tears streamed down my face. “James, I’m your wife.”

My voice broke completely. “I’m your wife, for heaven’s sake. I know you don’t love me. I’ve always known that. But you can’t keep hurting me like this. I’m human too.”

The room fell silent.

I watched his face change. The irritation faded, replaced by shock. Then guilt.

He walked toward me slowly and pulled me into his arms.

“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I didn’t know.”

His voice trembled. “I’m so sorry, Jenny. I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

“The pain,” I cried against his chest. “Our child. James, I was hurting so badly.”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated again and again, holding my face gently. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”

He hugged me tightly, as if he was afraid I might disappear.

For the first time in weeks, he was gentle again.

I smiled through my tears.

James loved children. I knew that. Deep down, I believed this baby would change everything. This child was a blessing. Maybe this was what we needed to fix our broken marriage.

All I had ever wanted was a happy family. I never had one growing up.

My father was an international businessman, respected in public, but behind closed doors, he was a drunkard. He came home late at night, violent and angry, beating my mother and sometimes me. I grew up surrounded by fear. At sixteen, I ran away from home and learned how to survive on my own.

Then I met James in college.

His calmness. His composure. Everything about him drew me in. He felt safe.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I promise I’ll sort things out with Vanessa, okay? We’ll build the perfect family you’ve always wanted.”

He kissed my forehead.

Hope bloomed painfully in my chest.

“Really, James?” I asked, my voice shaking. “You’re going to do that?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Don’t worry. Trust me.”

I nodded slowly.

“I trust you.”

And in that moment, I truly believed him.

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JAMES POV

I didn’t know whether to call it happiness or something else entirely.

As soon as I stepped out of the house, my lips curved into a smile I couldn’t suppress. Jenny was pregnant. My child. The thought alone made my chest feel full, heavy in a good way. I got into the car and before I could even start the engine, I dialed my mother’s number.

“Mom,” I said the moment she picked up. “Jenny is pregnant.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end, then a laugh filled with pure joy. “Pregnant? James, is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “My first grandchild.”

Her voice trembled with excitement. “Bring her to the Williams estate. Let her stay here. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of properly. I won’t let her suffer even a little.”

I smiled wider, gripping the steering wheel. “She’ll like that.”

“Of course she will. James, you’re going to be a father.”

A father.

The word settled into me so naturally that it scared me. I felt taller somehow, steadier. Responsible.

After ending the call, I started the car. I needed to go to the hospital. There were things to arrange, things to check. I was still smiling when my phone rang again.

Vanessa.

I picked up immediately.

“James,” she said, her voice shaking. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but there’s a man knocking on my door. He won’t leave.”

“What?” I raised my voice. “Don’t open the door. Are you listening to me, Vanessa?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I won’t.”

“I’m coming to your apartment right now.”

Without thinking twice, I turned the car around.

When I arrived, the hallway was empty. Too quiet. My heart pounded as I knocked on her door. “Vanessa, it’s me.”

The door opened instantly. She fell into my arms, trembling, her fingers clutching my shirt like she was afraid I’d disappear.

“I was so scared, James,” she cried. “He was banging on the door. I thought he was going to hurt me.”

My jaw tightened. “Did you see his face?”

“No,” she shook her head. “But… he came last night too.”

I pulled back slightly. “Last night? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay with you tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll find you a better place. Somewhere safer.”

She looked up at me, eyes glistening. “Can I… can I come stay at your mansion?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

She paused. “What about your wife?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “She won’t be angry. We’ve resolved our issues. And… she’s pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “Wow. I’d love to come over sometime and talk to Jenny. It’s been so long.”

I nodded, forcing a smile of my own. “You used to be friends in college, remember?”

“Yes,” she said lightly.

That night, I called Jenny.

I told her I was working overtime at the hospital.

I hated myself the moment the lie left my mouth.

She didn’t question it. She never did. She just nodded softly, even though she couldn’t see me, and told me to take care of myself. She reminded me not to drink coffee, not to stay up too late, to rest properly.

She sounded so gentle.

So trusting.

The guilt crept in fast, tightening my chest. I ended the call before it could swallow me whole.

When I turned around, Vanessa had changed. She stood there in a thin nightgown, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin. She walked closer, her presence warm, familiar, dangerous.

“So,” I asked, trying to sound casual, “how was your time abroad?”

“It wasn’t fun,” she said softly, her fingers brushing against my chest, “especially without you.”

That was all it took.

I knew I should have stopped. I knew I should have walked away. But I didn’t.

Later, as sleep pulled me under, guilt was the last thing I felt.

“I’m sorry, Jenny,” I thought weakly. “I’m so sorry.”

Maybe after this, I’ll end things properly, I told myself.

I didn’t know that while I slept, Vanessa was awake.

And taking pictures.