My Wife's Secret Son Isn't Mine
In the fifth year of my marriage to Cynthia Bolton, she suddenly transfers a sum of money into my bank account.
The note on the transfer reads, "Tuition for our son."
I am completely stunned for a moment. No matter how hard I think about it, I couldn't figure out how exactly we could have a son.
After Cynthia divorces her ex-husband, she marries me. She tells me that she's afraid of pain and of having children. On our wedding day, the very first condition she sets is that we remain child-free.
And because I love her, I agree readily. To put her mind completely at ease, I even undergo a vasectomy.
Staring at the transfer notification, I slowly turn around and ask her in a trembling voice. "What's the meaning of this?"
Cynthia freezes for a moment. When she notices the bank account number she has sent the money to, a flash of annoyance crosses her eyes.
Silence hangs in the air for a long time.
Then, she lets out a long sigh and explains indifferently, as if she is talking about something that is absolutely ordinary.
"Not long after I divorced Bradley Wilson, I found out I was pregnant."
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