MY HUSBAND'S HIDDEN TRUTH

Quinn’s POV

I’ve spent three hours preparing for Leander’s birthday dinner, and my feet ache. Braised short ribs rest in the oven, roasted vegetables are ready to serve, and the chocolate lava cake, I practiced twice to get it right sits on the table. I looked at myself in the mirror, wearing the dress he once said made me stunning. I know he’d like it. I wanted everything to be perfect.

Because tonight, I’m going to tell him I’m pregnant.

The positive test is in my clutch, wrapped in paper like it’s a precious gift; not just two pink lines that have changed everything. We’ve been married two years. His grandfather arranged the union to save my family’s small business, but we tried to build something real between us. We weren’t passionate, but things were steady like a house with strong walls that hadn’t been painted yet. I always thought we’d decorate it together someday.

My phone buzzes. It’s Sam, a colleague I worked with on a fashion spread last year; we keep in touch to talk about the industry. I open her message, expecting she’ll ask about the design conference.

“Hey, take a look at the new photos I took today. This is my friend—she’s a traveler.”

Three minutes later, the photos arrive. I’m admiring the shots when I notice a man in the background, his arm around a blonde woman. Only half his body is visible, but I’d know that suit anywhere. The cufflinks were made by my own hand–they’re one of a kind in the world.

The woman has long blonde hair, her hand on his back as she looks at him like he’s all that matters. I recognize her as Wren Harris. I’ve seen old photos of her in his desk drawer before, the ones I pretended not to notice the first time I cleaned his table.

“Sam, can you please not post this picture on social media?” I reply, my words heavy with sadness.

“Why?”

“Because that man in the picture is my husband.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

I stare at the screen, feeling as though cold water has been poured over me. I sighed heavily, set my phone down, and rest my hand on my stomach. The baby is too small to feel, but I swear I notice a tiny flutter. I tell myself I won’t let this ruin our special night.

I was planning to place the test by his plate with a blue bow, but now the idea feels like a cruel joke.

The door swings open. He’s finally here.

“Quinn? Why are you still up?” He sees the dinner spread and looks surprised then guilty for just a moment.

“I was waiting for you,” I say, forcing a sad smile. “Happy birthday, Leander.”

He runs a hand through his hair a telltale sign he’s nervous. “I’m sorry. Work was insane, we’re finalizing the merger, and everything went wrong. You shouldn’t have waited. The day’s over now, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll take you to that restaurant you love this weekend.”

I only sighed in response. What else can I do? He seems tired or perhaps just not interested in celebrating his birthday with me.

I look at the suit he still wears. It’s wrinkled, and there’s blonde hair on the collar. I want to scream, but I stay calm.

“I talked to Sam earlier,” I say, starting the conversation I never wanted to have. “She showed me photos from the airport a man in a navy pinstripe suit with custom stitching. She couldn’t tell who it was, but I recognized my work. I knew it was you.”

He freezes, glancing at his sleeves. He reaches for my hands, but I pulled it away.

“It was a coincidence, I swear,” he says. “I was picking up Mr. Stanton, his flight was late and I ran into Wren by chance. Her driver didn’t show up, she had a lot to carry, so I couldn’t leave her.”

“Did you tell her you’re married?” I ask.

“No. We never talk about our personal lives, only work, that’s all.” He looks away, and that’s all I need to know. I wonder if he was wearing his wedding ring.

I reach for my clutch. “I have something to show you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for days.”

I’m about to pull out the test when his phone rings. It’s Wren.

“Leander! My power’s out there’s a storm, the windows are rattling, I’m scared. I don’t know anyone here, I—”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” he says, grabbing his keys. “I’m coming. Lock the doors and stay away from the windows.” He stands up immediately and heads for the door.

“Leander, please don’t go,” I find myself begging, holding onto his arm. “It’s your birthday. We were supposed to be together on your special day.”

He gently pulls his arm free. “She has no one else here, Quinn. I’ll be back once the power’s on, I promise.”

He leaves before I can say another word. I listen as his car drives away, then sink into a chair.

I pull out the test and hold it as tears blur the two pink lines. I want to shout as loud as I can.

“He chose to be with her instead of us, my little one,” I whisper. “But it’s okay. I just hope this won’t last long."