My Son Is His Only Heir
It was the night of my husband's and my third anniversary, and I had gotten home early. I caught him in bed with another woman—for the tenth time. But unlike the previous times, I did not throw a tantrum. I even closed the door to the master bedroom quietly, not wanting to interrupt.
In Scott Jameson's eyes, I had no choice but to tolerate his cheating because I became Mrs. Jameson by getting pregnant with his child.
Three months later, he flung divorce papers at me. "My young lover wants me to give her a home and to bear my son. Sign the papers."
I looked into his cold, distant eyes and said with conviction, "All right. All I want is custody of our son. I don't want a cent of the Jamesons' money."
The court proceedings were difficult, and I was accused of being mentally unstable. Many people made fun of me for not knowing my place.
All of Cloverton was waiting for me to humiliate myself, counting the seconds until a nobody like me succumbed to desperation.
However, I fought the case with everything I had. Eventually, I was finally able to leave with my son.
No one knew that Scott suffered from a serious case of asthenozoospermia. His sperm were completely useless. No other woman could have Scott's baby except me, as I happened to be unusually fertile.
My son would be the only heir to the Jameson family legacy.