Saved His Life, But He Had a Son With Her

My husband came home with a nanny one day, and she had a five-year-old boy in tow.

He told me the child was adopted from an orphanage.

But late that night, in the basement, I saw Michael savagely making out with the nanny.

“Thank you, my love, for giving me a son.”

The nanny trembled, whimpering softly. “So when are you finally going to divorce her and marry me?”

Five years ago, I was badly burned on my back saving Michael from a fire, leaving me unable to have children.

He had held me then, crying hysterically, repeating over and over that it didn’t matter if we never had children, as long as he had me.

It was all a lie.

I stood in the shadows, a cold, mocking smile twisting my lips.

That kind of man, tainted to the core, was not worth keeping.

Victoria POV

Michael and I had been married for nine years, known in our social circle as the quintessential power couple.

That perception shattered completely the moment I saw Michael holding a five-year-old boy.

The reason was simple: that child wasn’t mine.

Michael, usually so aloof in public, was now softly coaxing the child in a doting tone. “Alex, listen to your mom.”

My mind went blank with a loud buzz, as if I couldn’t hear anything else.

Five years ago, I was badly burned on my back saving Michael from a fire, and I lost the ability to have children after that.

I remember Michael kneeling by my hospital bed, clutching my hand tightly, his eyes red as he swore, “I don’t want children, Victoria, I only want you.”

Those vows still echoed in my ears, yet the scene before me crushed everything.

He was holding a child, a child he had with another woman, calling his name so tenderly.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stifle my sobs, and spun on my heel, fleeing.

At the gallery entrance, my friend Jennifer looked startled by my pale face.

I held her, my fingertips cold, my voice dry and hoarse. “Jennifer, I need you to look into Michael. He might have a son.”

Only then did I finally understand: all these years he had held me like a precious treasure, it was all just a sweet, cruel deception.

When I got home, I received a text from Michael. “Three more days until my business trip ends. Miss me?” followed by a kiss emoji.

I stared at the message, tears streaming down my face.

For the past five years, he’d always gone to Europe for a month every autumn.

I always thought he was working tirelessly for his business empire, but now I understood. That month was for his other family.

Outside, snow had begun to fall, silently blanketing the old oak trees beyond my window.

I scrolled through the files Jennifer had sent.

The woman’s name was Emma, and she’d grown up with Michael.

He’d once gotten into a fight for her on the football field, breaking a bone. He’d bought her a rare antique wristwatch. He’d even defied his entire family to marry her.

All those grand, dramatic gestures from our past… they just twisted the knife deeper into the gaping wound of his betrayal.

My phone rang, Michael’s name flashing on the screen.

I bit my lip hard, letting it ring again and again, but eventually, I answered with a trembling hand.

“Why did it take you so long to pick up?” His voice on the other end was as gentle as ever. “Are you being disobedient again, not eating properly?”

My fingers curled into fists.

He used to hold me like this too, laughing softly as he asked, “Are you not eating properly again? If you get too thin, I’ll worry sick.”

I shook my head. “No.”

He would then kiss my earlobe, whispering with a low laugh, “Such a naughty girl? Victoria, do I need to keep an eye on you at all times?”

I used to think we’d be like this forever.

For the first time, I lied to him, my voice muffled, like I was genuinely sick. “A bit of a cold. I’m already in bed.”

“A cold?” His tone immediately tensed. “Is it serious? I’ll fly back right now.”

“No need.” I quickly stopped him, a hint of detachment in my voice that I hadn’t even realized was there. “I’ve taken medicine. I’ll be fine after a good sleep.”

I was about to hang up when a woman’s languid, intimate voice came through the receiver.

“Michael, Alex is asleep. We can-“

The call was abruptly disconnected by Michael.

He was with that woman right now.

I stared at my silent phone, unable to hold back any longer, and burst into tears.

Jennifer rushed into the room, pulling me into a heartbroken embrace.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here.”