Seven Years of Lies My Wife's Secret Child With Another Man

Three years into our marriage, Edna Swanson had sent me to the police station ten times. I'd sent her to the hospital eleven.

Because every time I beat up her first love, she called the cops.

And every time I got out, we'd fight until one of us ended up in the ER.

Then came the business trip to Dubai. She shielded me from shrapnel. I shielded her from a collapsing beam.

From two hospital beds, our hands found each other across the aisle and held on tight.

"No more fighting, baby."

"I'll send him away."

"Let's just live a good life together. Please."

Looking at the bandages covering both our bodies, I tore up the divorce papers with trembling hands.

"One last chance."

Clark Dickerson was gone that same day.

Every trace of him was scrubbed from her phone.

Edna gritted through the pain and had my name tattooed over her heart.

"I swear, you won't regret this."

On our seventh anniversary, the police called and asked me to come in.

A married couple had reported that my company's products gave their child food poisoning.

The husband was Clark Dickerson.

The wife was Edna Swanson.

She didn't even try to hide it.

"He and I have a threeyearold son. That's just the way it is."

We'd been back together for four years.

The kid was three.

Her friends told me I should be grateful she'd at least had the decency to keep it hidden.

I pulled out the divorce agreement from four years ago.

"Then let's make it official."

...

Clark left the station clutching his son, redfaced and fuming.

Because I'd shut him down so thoroughly he couldn't get a word in.

Not against my legal expertise.

It drove him out of his mind.

Back at the house, I walked ahead in long strides. Edna followed with a scowl.

"Would it kill you to have a better attitude? Picking on a father and his son—what does that prove?"

"Picking on them?"

I spun around.

"There is nothing wrong with my company's products. He obviously fed his own kid something he shouldn't have and tried to pin it on me for a payout. You really can't see that?

"So tell me—who's picking on who?"

Edna's brow furrowed.

I stepped closer.

"You know exactly how clean my formulas are. And you still helped them file that report."

A cold laugh escaped me. I looked at her with nothing but contempt. "You really haven't changed at all."

She let out a sigh.

"Alex Sanchez, you can be really heartless sometimes."

I froze.

"The boy is only three years old. Clark's a firsttime dad. His kid gets food poisoning that bad—of course he panicked.

"You could at least show some understanding, but instead you go after a single father over one small mistake like you're trying to destroy him.

"You..."

She looked me up and down.

A mocking smile curled at the corner of her lips.

"Oh, right. You'll never be a father, so I guess you wouldn't understand what it feels like to have a child."

I stared at her in disbelief.

The next second—crack—my palm connected hard with her face.

"Edna Swanson! Whose fault is it that I can never be a father? You don't remember?"

Something finally seemed to click behind her eyes.

She lowered her gaze, avoiding mine.

But I wasn't letting her off.

"Back in college, you got drunk and picked a fight. They came at you with a broken bottle.

"I took that hit for you. The glass severed my vas deferens. The doctors had no choice but to sterilize me."

Guilt crept across Edna's face.

I smiled bitterly.

"If I'd known you got into that fight over Clark Dickerson—that you were brawling with those girls because of him—I never would have stepped in. Not in a million years."

Edna shifted uncomfortably.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"You've said a lot of things you shouldn't have over these seven years."

I looked at her.

"The truth is, you never took me seriously. You never took this marriage seriously.

"Otherwise, something like that wouldn't just slip out of your mouth.

"Have you ever said the wrong thing in front of Clark?"

Silence.

I answered for her. "No, right?"

"I—"

"Edna."

I cut her off. "Stop making excuses.

"You don't care, and that's all there is to it. Just like I told you before—I was giving you one last chance."

My eyes dropped to my name tattooed over her heart.

I scoffed.

"You only ever said you'd cherish our last chance. That's all it ever was—words."

"I already moved things underground with him. What more do you want from me?"

I stared at her, unable to believe what I was hearing.

She looked irritated.

"In these four years, have you ever seen a trace of him or his son anywhere near me?

"No, right?"

"Edna..."

"Enough, Alex."

She frowned. "If you hadn't been so petty and paranoid this time, you never would have found out. You wouldn't have ruined what we had. We could've lived out the rest of our lives together, perfectly fine."

When a person reaches the peak of rage—

They really do laugh.

The complaint filed against the company should have been a matter for the legal department to handle.

I didn't need to get involved.

But the phone number on the complaint looked familiar.

I recognized it as Alex's.

I looked into it personally.

And discovered that Edna had never truly cut ties with Clark.

Edna let out a sigh.

"Just pretend you didn't see any of it.

"Alex, don't destroy what we worked so hard to rebuild."

I laughed.

I slapped the divorce papers down on the table.

"If you actually valued this marriage, you never would have stayed in contact with him!"

"What are you doing?"

The moment she saw the words Divorce Agreement, her breath visibly caught.

"Take it away!"

She reached to tear the papers apart, but I pressed my hand down hard, pinning them to the table.

"Edna, I told you. Four years ago was our last chance."

"Alex..."

"Three days."

I locked my eyes on hers. "Give me an answer."

"Alex! Alex!!"

I walked out without looking back. She didn't stop me.

She stood there alone, staring at the papers.

Her fingers trembling.

I waited two days.

Edna didn't reach out.

The messages I sent went unanswered.

I decided to go home and press the matter in person.

But the moment I reached the door, I heard the clink of glasses and laughter inside.

"Edna, it's the last day on that divorce agreement. You're really not going to do anything about it?"

"Do anything?"

Edna scoffed. "He's the one out of line! He's the one who owes me an explanation!"

What?

My hand froze on the door handle.

"Seven years of marriage—fine, I'll let the past go. Bringing Clark's son home was over the line, I admit that. I understand why he pulled out the divorce papers.

"But these last four years, we've been more in love than any couple I know. Even when we fought, he never once threatened me with something like this."

She waved the agreement in the air.

"Has it ever crossed his mind how much damage this little tantrum is doing to us?"

I clenched my jaw.

One of her friends glanced toward the doorway.

Her breath hitched.

She chose not to say anything.

Instead, she asked another question.

"Edna, what if he's serious?"

"Serious?"

Edna smiled. "We've risked our lives for each other. Something like that doesn't fall apart so easily."

"Then why did you go and have a child with Clark? I actually thought you'd turned over a new leaf."