My Adoptive Son Was Husband and Best Friend’s Bastard

My adopted son Ethan's lips curled into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. And then I heard a familiar voice right behind me.

"Oh, Vivian. You really are something else, you know that? You handed your husband over to my bed, and you spent fifteen years raising my biological son."

"I should actually be thanking you."

My best friend Rachel pressed both hands down on my shoulders and breathed the words against my ear like a ghost.

I spun around and caught the exact moment my husband Derek locked eyes with her.

My stomach lurched. I pressed my hand to my chest.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "That's impossible. Ethan misspoke. Derek told me our son was gone, so we adopted."

Rachel let out a cold laugh and handed me two documents.

One was a photo of Derek at the grocery store, holding the son who had supposedly disappeared.

The other was a paternity test confirming Derek and Ethan as a match.

The blood drained from my face.

Derek stood there with a smirk, silently mouthing: You stupid little fool.

From up on stage, Ethan watched every flicker of emotion cross my face.

"Mom," he said, voice bright and easy, "I can finally thank you out in the open."

He reached out and took Rachel's hand. The look he gave me was pure contempt.

Something snapped inside me. I shoved through the crowd, got up on stage, and slapped him across the face.

The crack of it silenced the entire room.

Derek's expression went dark immediately.

"Vivian, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" My eyes flew wide. I pointed at him, then at Rachel. "You two absolute—"

Before I could finish, a full glass of red wine poured over my head.

Through the red haze, Ethan's voice came out cool and detached.

"Mom, how could you talk about Rachel like that? She's the one who risked her medical license to get you your prescription migraine meds all these years. Or did you forget that?"

"And Dad has worked hard for this family. All you've ever done is cook and shop. Today is supposed to be a celebration. Stop making a scene."

The boy I'd bled and sacrificed for turned out to be my husband's son with his mistress.

And in a few sentences, he erased everything I'd done and painted me as the villain.

I snapped. I threw the documents Rachel had been gloating over right back at her. In return, she burst into tears.

"Vivian, I know being a stay-at-home mom isn't easy. But you can't try to steal my son just because you're jealous. I was kind enough to let you be his adoptvie mother since you couldn't have kids yourself, and now you're trying to twist it around and say you're his real mother? I can't take this anymore."

Rachel wailed, then lurched toward the wall like she was going to bash her own head in.

Derek caught her, pulling her close, then turned to me with undisguised contempt.

"If you want to have a breakdown, have it at home. Get over here and apologize to Rachel."