My Wife, My Betrayer
Chapter 1
My wife, Sarah, and I were a team. Twenty years, a pact made in our twenties: dual income, no kids. It was her idea, her dream of a life unburdened by family, focused on her career and our love. I loved her, so I made her dream my own. I got a vasectomy. A simple, sterile procedure to seal our shared future.
Tonight, that future shattered.
I found the papers in her office safe, the one she thought I didn't know the code to. Not a secret lover's notes, but something colder, more clinical. A trust agreement. And birth certificates. Twins, Luke and Ben O'Connell. Ten years old.
I laid the documents on our marble kitchen island. The polished surface reflected the harsh overhead lights, making the black ink look like a deep, unhealable wound. When she walked in, humming a tune from some playlist she loved, the sound died in her throat.
Her eyes darted from my face to the papers. The color drained from her cheeks.
"Ethan," she started, her voice a thin whisper.
"Twenty years, Sarah," I said, my own voice dangerously calm. "We had a DINK lifestyle. My choice. For you. I got a vasectomy. For you. So what the hell are these?"
I tapped the birth certificates.
She wouldn't look at me. She stared at the papers as if they were a foreign language she couldn't comprehend.
"They're... they're Liam's boys," she finally said.
Liam O'Connell. Her old friend from college. The one who was always just "a friend."
"And yours," I stated, not a question. The mother's name was Sarah Jenkins.
She flinched. "Ethan, it's complicated."
"Complicated?" The word erupted from me, a raw bark of disbelief. "You have two ten-year-old sons I know nothing about. You lied to me for a decade. Your retired parents, who I thought were enjoying their golden years in Florida, have been helping you raise them. It says so right here in the trust disbursements. It's not complicated, Sarah. It's a betrayal."
She finally looked up, and what I saw in her eyes wasn't guilt or shame. It was justification.
"Liam needed an heir," she said, as if that explained everything. "His mother was dying, and her last wish was to see the family line continue. It was about filial piety, Ethan. A duty."
I laughed. It was a hollow, ugly sound that filled the sterile silence of our kitchen. "Filial piety? For Liam? What about your duty to me? To our marriage? To the life we built on a foundation that you just took a sledgehammer to?"
A sudden, jarring ring broke the tension. Sarah' s phone. It was her mother. She answered, her voice tight. "Mom, not now."
I could hear the tinny, frantic voice on the other end. "Sarah, what's wrong? Ethan sounds upset. Don't be too hard on him. He just needs time to adjust. He'll come to love the boys. We all do."
My blood ran cold. They all knew. Her whole family was in on it. I was the fool, the last to know, the obstacle they needed to "adjust."
"I see," I said, my voice dropping. "So the whole family thinks I'm just going to roll over and accept this."
Sarah hung up the phone. "They're just worried."
"Worried about what? Your perfect little secret blowing up?" I pushed the papers across the island towards her. My hands were shaking. "This is it, Sarah. You have to make a choice. It's me, or it's them. Liam and those two boys. You cut them out of your life, completely, or we are done."
I held my breath, a desperate, foolish part of me praying she would choose me. Praying that twenty years meant something.
She looked at me, her expression hardening. There was no conflict in her eyes, only a cold and final decision.
"I can't do that to them, Ethan," she said softly. "They're my children."
The words struck me with the force of a physical blow. A truth she had hidden for ten years, now wielded as a weapon.
My heart didn't just break; it felt like it dissolved into dust. I slowly, deliberately, pulled the simple gold band from my left ring finger. It felt strangely light after two decades. I placed it on top of the birth certificates.
"Then we're done," I whispered. "The marriage is over."
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