The abandoned wife and her secret son

The abandoned wife and her secret son

last updateÚltima actualización : 2026-01-29
Por:  Paulinah Actualizado ahora
Idioma: English
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I married a man who loved my step-sister. Our marriage was a contract—cold, clinical, temporary. No love. No expectations. And above all, no pregnancy. I told myself I could endure it. That loving him quietly, faithfully, invisibly, would one day be enough. I was wrong. For four years, I lived as a ghost in my own marriage—watching the man I loved choose her, again and again. I sacrificed my pride, my dreams, and my voice, waiting for him to see me. Then I discovered I was pregnant. I had broken the contract. But more than that, I had broken myself. So I left. Years later, I am no longer the woman who begged for scraps of affection. I am powerful, independent, whole. I rebuilt my life, reclaimed my stolen legacy, and became the woman I was always meant to be. Now, the man who once overlooked me stands at my door, desperate for answers—about the son he never knew existed, about the woman he destroyed, about the love he threw away. But some love is realized too late. When the woman you ignored becomes the one you can’t have, and the child you never wanted becomes your only chance at redemption—can a heart that never chose you suddenly deserve a second chance?

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Capítulo 1

Chapter 1

Aria POV

“Do you see that?”

The doctor tilted the screen toward me. I turned my head slightly, squinting at the grainy black-and-white image.

“Yes,” I said.

“That flicker.” She tapped the monitor lightly with her pen. “That’s the heartbeat.”

Heartbeat?

I stared at the small, rhythmic pulse on the screen. It looked impossibly tiny—fragile, like it might disappear if I blinked.

“You’re pregnant. About six weeks along.”

The words hit me like cold water.

I had been careful. I took my contraceptive pills every single day, exactly as Julian had ordered. The same time every morning. I’d set an alarm for it.

So how did this happen?

The contract surfaced in my mind immediately,not dramatically, but quietly, like muscle memory.

Clause 7: No pregnancy under any circumstances. Prevent pregnancy by all means necessary.

I could still see Julian’s face the day I signed it. The way he slid the papers across his desk without meeting my eyes. The way his pen felt heavy in my hand.

“Doctor, are you absolutely sure?” My voice came out smaller than I intended.

She gestured to the screen, her expression patient. “As you can see, you’re pregnant.” She began cleaning the gel off my stomach with a warm towel. The clinical gentleness of it made my throat tighten. “I’ll need you to come in regularly for checkups. Make sure you eat breakfast every day,no skipping meals. And I’m prescribing prenatal vitamins. Take them daily, preferably with food.”

I nodded mechanically. “Alright, doctor.”

I thanked her and left the office, my legs moving on autopilot.

When I reached my car in the parking garage, I sat behind the wheel for several minutes, hands gripping the leather until my knuckles turned white. The underground garage was dim and quiet. I could hear the hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

How am I going to tell Julian?

My mind raced through possibilities, each one worse than the last. Would he be angry? Would he demand I get rid of it?

He had made himself crystal clear,this marriage had rules, and pregnancy wasn’t part of the deal.

Clause 7: No pregnancy under any circumstances.

I could still remember signing that contract like it was yesterday. The way the ink looked against the white paper. The way my hand trembled slightly as I wrote my name.

After sitting there long enough for my hands to warm the steering wheel, I finally turned the key and drove home.

When I arrived, hunger hit me like a wave—sharp and urgent. I went straight to the kitchen and cooked more than I normally would. Pasta with cream sauce, garlic bread, a side salad I barely touched.

I ate everything down to the last bite, surprised by my own appetite.

Afterward, I washed the dishes and tidied up, moving through the familiar motions. The kitchen gleamed under the pendant lights. Everything in its place. Perfect and hollow.

I went upstairs to shower.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror afterward, I studied my reflection carefully. My body hadn’t changed yet. My stomach was still flat, my waist the same.

I placed my hand over it, rubbing gently.

A tiny life was growing inside me.

I thought about the baby shower I’d attended last month,my college friend Sarah’s. The way everyone cooed over the tiny clothes and blankets. The way Sarah’s husband kept his hand on her belly, protective and proud. The way he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Would Julian ever look at me like that?

The answer settled in my chest like a stone.

Would this child make him love me? Or would it make him hate me even more?

After dressing in comfortable clothes, I sat on the couch in our bedroom, waiting. Julian always came home late usually after ten. He never seemed to care that someone was waiting for him.

I glanced at the clock.

8:47 PM.

I waited, watching the minutes tick by. My eyes grew heavy. The couch was soft, and exhaustion pulled at me.

Just a few more minutes, I told myself.

But my body had other plans.

When dizziness crept in and my eyelids grew too heavy to keep open, I gave up and moved to the bed.

I woke to a familiar touch,warm hands on my skin, the mattress dipping beside me.

Julian.

He had already undressed. I blinked up at him, disoriented. His eyes were that amazing shade of green, but right now they were dark with want. Not love. Never love. Just desire.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, leaning close to my ear. His breath was warm against my neck.

“Yes. When did you get back?” I asked, my voice still thick with sleep.

“Not long ago.” His hand slid along my side. “I missed this.”

He kissed my neck, slow and deliberate, then moved to my mouth. His tongue slipped between my lips, demanding and familiar. His hand found my breast, and then his mouth followed, warm and insistent.

I felt him hard against me, ready.

He entered slowly, and I gasped.

“I missed this,” he groaned.

For a moment, I let myself forget the pregnancy, the contract, the impossibility of us. I let myself pretend this meant something more.

I thought about the first time we’d done this, right after we signed the contract. He’d been efficient, almost businesslike. But over the years, he’d learned my body. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to make me forget that this was all we’d ever have.

“I missed you too,” I whispered, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.

He moved harder, faster, and I matched his rhythm. My body responded even as my heart ached.

“You feel so good,” he said against my skin.

I moaned, arching into him. “Don’t stop.”

Time blurred.

When we finished, he kissed my forehead briefly, a gesture so tender it hurt before standing up to clean himself off.

Reality came crashing back.

I need to tell him.

“Julian, I need to talk to you about something—”

But the sound of running water from the bathroom drowned out my voice. I decided to wait until he finished showering.

Then his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

A message notification lit up the screen. I couldn’t help but glance over.

Selene: I miss you, my love.

My stomach dropped.

Selene.

My younger stepsister. Julian’s first love.

His phone rang.

The caller ID confirmed it: Selene.

My hand instinctively moved to my stomach, pressing gently against where our baby,his baby,was growing.

He didn’t even know.

And judging by that message, he was too busy loving someone else to care.

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