Stealing His Heirs

When the lawyer told me that my husband of eight years and I were already legally divorced a year ago and that he was now another woman’s husband, I froze in place. I was unwilling to believe it.

Then, my phone buzzed with a message from Zayn.

[Baby, I just got back today. I picked up the newest handbag for you. I’ve got a work matter to finish, and then I’ll be home to spend the evening with you.]

My heart was pierced by the sharp lie as I read the message.

If it had been before, I would have been thrilled. He always brought me gifts whenever he came back from a business trip.

This time, I was standing in the airport lobby, waiting to surprise him. Instead, I was the one who got surprised.

From a distance, I saw a familiar figure emerge from the gate. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His black suit made his imposing presence stand out even more.

Yet there he was, gently holding a woman by his side. His gaze was brimming with affection. That woman was glowing with happiness, her belly round with pregnancy. It was Whitney.

Agony twisted through my chest, leaving me trembling.

We had grown up together. We were childhood sweethearts who had never been apart in 28 years.

I had once believed our love was unshakable, that no one could ever come between us. However, it turned out to be nothing more than poison wrapped in the sweetness of candy.

I remembered how we had lost our marriage certificate once. He told me his assistant would handle the replacement. I even signed some kind of paper back then. As I recalled it now, that must have been the divorce papers…

The thought stabbed through me like needles. I clutched the bouquet I brought for him so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. I gave him one last, lingering look, then turned around and dropped the flowers into the trash can.

Back home, I collapsed, feeling drained. It was as though my soul had been ripped out of me.

In a daze, I walked into the bathroom and, without even knowing why, reached for a pregnancy test. Two bright lines appeared, and all I could think was how cruelly fate had toyed with me.

Three months ago, I went alone to the hospital for my 12th round of IVF. We had never been able to have a child all these years. He always told me it did not matter and that even without children, he would give me all his love.

The previous attempts had all failed. Hope crumbled into despair each time. Yet I still longed for a child. It would be living proof of our love.

Six months ago, while he was away on another trip, I used the frozen samples we had saved to try one last time. Just yesterday, the doctor told me it had worked, and the fetuses were healthy.

I was over three months along, and they were twins—a little boy and a little girl. I had planned to surprise Zayn with the news on our anniversary.

However, it turned out that he was already fathering another woman's child.

No wonder he never cared much about whether we had kids of our own. He already had another family elsewhere.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps outside. Zayn’s silhouette emerged in the doorway.

I quickly wiped my tears, hid the test behind me, and slipped it into my pocket.

“Babe, why didn’t you answer my text? I was so worried something had happened to you.”

He rushed to my side, his expression etched with anxiety.

I lowered my head, avoiding his burning gaze.

Back when we were still dating, there were times I would ignore his calls out of spite. He would get so frantic that he would send a helicopter to search the entire city for me.

That love and devotion were reserved for someone else now.

“I… was out shopping with a friend. My phone died.” I forced out a shaky smile.

He pulled me into his arms, resting his chin against the top of my head. His voice was deep and soft—almost tender.

“Don’t do that again. You know I can’t live without you.”

I stood stiff in his embrace. My heart tangled with bitterness and sorrow.

Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and his expression instantly shifted to something grim. “Sweetheart, I need to take this.”

He released me and stepped out onto the balcony.

I lifted my head, watching him from behind, and my chest ached all over again.

A few minutes later, he hurried back, grabbing his jacket. “Something urgent came up at work. I’ll be back soon.”

I did not speak and just nodded quietly.

The door slammed shut with a bang, and Zayn vanished from my view.

I looked down at the test still in my hand, then tossed it into the trash can. Tears streamed down my face once more.

I felt so sorry for my babies for not being able to give them a complete family. However, I promised to love them with everything I had. I would give them the very best life I could.

One week later, after finalizing the inheritance and getting my passport, I would leave with the twins. I was leaving for good. I would be out of his life, no longer being a hindrance to the family he had built with Whitney and their child.