My wife posted a picture on Ins of an ultrasound and her baby bump. The comments section exploded, tagging me with congratulations. Calmly, I replied:
“Not my baby. We’re done.”
Moments later, my wife’s furious call came through.
“Are you sick?! He’s dying, what’s wrong with me giving him a child? Can’t you be more generous?”
I was “generous” enough to fulfill my wife and her first love’s wish, leaving the divorce papers. But then, she regretted it.
Briar Thorne had always hated children.
She’d say pregnancy and childbirth would ruin her career, and a crying baby would drive her insane.
I’d tried to discuss it with her, but she’d instantly explode the moment I brought it up:
“Are you trying to kill me?! Do you have any idea about amniotic fluid embolism?!”
Her stance on the matter was rock-solid. Two years ago, she demanded I get a vasectomy.
She didn’t even enjoy intimacy with me, and we always used contraception anyway.
But I thought, what if she wanted a child later?
Briar’s face instantly darkened. A pillow slammed into me, and she hissed, “You won’t get a vasectomy, huh? Fine, divorce!”
I didn’t want to argue, so I just went along with it.
Recently, I’d seen her researching pregnancy tips and buying supplements she used to despise.
I thought she’d finally come around, and happily booked a vasectomy reversal surgery.
But now, it seems she *can* accept having a baby—just not *my* baby!
Briar came home at eight tonight. Usually, she worked late into the night, and lately, she’d been using “busy with work” as an excuse to not come home at all.
I bet she wasn’t busy with work; she was busy trying to conceive with Julian Vance!
Briar hugged me from behind. It was the first time she’d initiated affection in ages.
Her arms wrapped around my waist, her voice dripping with flattery:
“Honey, there’s truly nothing going on between Julian and me. This is just about helping him have a child. You know he’s in the late stages of ALS. I promise, as soon as I’ve seen him through the last chapter of his life, I’ll cut him out of my life for good!”
I brushed her hands away, turning to face her, my voice cold and laced with sarcasm: “And then what? So you expect me to be a cuckold, raising your kid with him?”
My attitude instantly ignited her displeasure:
“I’ve explained everything, what more do you want? Can’t you be a man instead of acting like a lunatic? You’re such a disappointment!”
“Didn’t you say you loved me? If you love me, why can’t you accept even this? Besides, you can’t have kids anyway, wouldn’t it be better to just treat our baby as your own?”
She rattled on, as if I were the villain tearing them apart.
I forced myself to suppress my anger: “I had a vasectomy, but it can be reversed! I’m not infertile!”
“And why did I get one in the first place? Because you were frail, and I was worried about an accidental pregnancy causing you suffering!”
Briar, enraged and humiliated, slammed the door shut and stormed out.
Briar was gone early in the morning. I printed the divorce papers and went to her company, but couldn’t find her.
Her assistant said she hadn’t been to work for days.
So, she wasn’t out early and back late for work, but to care for Julian.
I went to the hospital for my shift as usual. Before heading home, I walked past the OB/GYN department and saw Briar and Julian in the hallway.
She was clutching Julian’s arm, her perfectly sculpted brows furrowed. “Are you stalking me?”
I looked at Julian beside her. His gaze didn’t waver, meeting mine with a defiant challenge.
He even feigned intimacy, playfully rubbing Briar’s earlobe.
“Baby, don’t think that about Noah. Why would he stalk us? There’s nothing going on between us. Noah will understand.”
I scoffed. Huh, I’d been married to Briar for years, yet she didn’t even know where I worked.
“Oh yeah, you two are so innocent. So innocent you ended up in the OB/GYN department.”
Seeing me expose their affair, Briar furiously shoved me.
“If you weren’t stalking us, why are you here? Are you really so intolerant?!”
I’d been so busy all day I hadn’t even had a drop of water, and I’d just finished a four-hour surgery.
Feeling dizzy and disoriented, I was unprepared for her push and my body slammed against the corner of a counter behind me.
Briar looked momentarily guilty.
Julian immediately came over, feigning concern to help me, chiding Briar, but a triumphant smirk played on his lips.
I pushed him away in disgust. Unexpectedly, he collapsed directly to the floor.
Briar rushed to cradle Julian, looking at me with loathing: “Don’t you know he’s in the late stages of his illness?! If anything happens to Julian, I swear I’ll never forgive you!”
I watched helplessly as my wife left with another man.
After work, I returned home, opened my phone, and saw Julian Vance’s Ins post:
“So incredibly happy to have such a wonderful woman by my side.”
The picture showed Briar holding Julian’s hand.
Beneath it were replies from Briar’s friends:
“Isn’t this our Briar’s hand? ??”
“Lovers always find their way back to each other, congrats!”
“Moved by such unwavering, beautiful love. Blessings!”
The next second, I saw Briar’s reply:
“Stop stirring things up, Julian is sick, I’m just taking care of him. Do you want to see your brother-in-law and me get divorced?”
At her words, Briar’s friends all implicitly responded with an ambiguous “Got it.”
Only Chelsea Reed said:
“Pfft, who cares about him. You’re already pregnant with your true love’s baby anyway, just get divorced already.”
Chelsea was Briar’s best friend. She’d always thought I wasn’t good enough for Briar, that I wasn’t as considerate or sensible as Julian.
I opened Ins and posted the signed divorce papers.
They were barely up before I got a flood of likes and comments.
But not a single one from Briar’s friends. They had tacitly chosen to pretend not to see it.
Maybe by now, they were already celebrating Briar’s newfound freedom.
I looked around the house. When we first got married, I excitedly discussed with Briar how to decorate our new home.
Back then, Briar impatiently waved it off, leaving everything to me. Every single item in this house was meticulously chosen by me.
I packed my belongings, tossing all the matching couple items into the trash.
Just as I stepped out, I ran into Briar, who was returning.
She stomped towards me in high heels, her face seething. “What are you doing? It’s just helping him have a baby, is that really worth a divorce?!”
When I loved her, I thought she was adorable no matter what.
But now, looking at her face, I realized she was just an ordinary person, even somewhat disgusting.
I ignored her, pulling my luggage towards my car.
But she ran over and grabbed me. “Are you done yet? Aren’t you just trying to force me? He’s sick, how can you be so vicious?!”
How could she say such shameless things so casually?
I couldn’t hold back anymore and pushed her away, mindful that she was pregnant, so I held back some strength.
It wasn’t that I still had feelings for her; I just wanted her to be tied down with Julian Vance and divorce me quickly.
““Yes, I’m that vicious. So hurry up and sign the papers.”
Behind me, Briar’s angry shouts echoed: “Fine, you leave, and don’t you dare regret it!”
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