Chapter 2The Fake Mother - in - law Is My Husband's Real Mistress

In the ambulance, Jack gripped my hand tightly. To an outsider, he probably looked like a concerned husband. But I noticed his eyes never left my swollen belly.

It was in that moment that I truly lost all hope. I had given him everything, but Jack clearly cared more about the baby than my wellbeing.

I turned to Jack, my face pale, and said through tears: "Honey... no matter what... please save the baby first."

The paramedic looked at me in disbelief, probably thinking I was being foolish.

Jack hesitated before responding: "Don't say such unlucky things. You and the baby will both be fine."

I caught a flicker of guilt in his eyes before it quickly vanished. His fake concern only disgusted me more.

At the hospital, after determining there were no major issues, the doctor pulled Jack aside to speak privately.

I overheard the doctor scolding him: "She's pregnant and doesn't know any better, but what's your excuse? How can you talk about prioritizing the baby over your wife? Don't you have any sense of responsibility as her husband?"

"Forget it, talking to someone like you just makes me angry. Make sure she doesn't eat anything cold or uncooked. Most importantly, keep her well-nourished and try to fulfill her requests. Don't let her get upset - it affects both her and the baby's health."

Jack responded dismissively: "Yes, yes, doctor. I understand. I'll be more careful from now on."

The female doctor had likely seen too many cases like this. She could only sigh: "Don't just say you'll be careful later. Start paying attention now." After speaking to Jack, she returned to my bedside.

She leaned in and spoke to me quietly but earnestly: "Did you have a fight with your husband? Even if you're upset, try to control your emotions. I know it's unfair to put all that pressure on you as the pregnant one, but you can always set him straight after the baby is born."

I thanked the doctor, and she left.

During my few days of observation at the hospital, Jack often brought me chicken soup. Of course, he couldn't have made it himself - the man could barely boil water. He relied on "Mom" for everything, even making me take out the trash when I was about to pop.

The soup must have been made by my fake mother-in-law Rachel.

"Oh honey, it's too bad I can't cook," I said. "If only you'd married someone who could cook, it would be so much better. Poor Mom is getting on in years, yet she still has to work so hard for me."

"You're carrying my child now. It's only right that my mother takes care of you..." Jack trailed off, suddenly wary. He must have worried I'd discovered something. He started probing: "Sweetheart, did I do something to upset you? Is that why you suddenly went into labor?"

Hearing him call me "sweetheart" made me want to vomit. I clutched my chest, feeling nauseated.

Seeing I was about to be sick, Jack instinctively backed away, afraid I'd throw up on him.

"What, do I disgust you now?" I looked up at him pointedly.

"No, no, of course not..." Jack stammered.

Jack must have sensed the edge in my voice lately. He seemed to wonder if I'd uncovered his and Rachel's secret.

Seeing I didn't say anything further and looked a bit accusatory, Jack quickly put on a gentle tone: "Don't be silly. You're my wife, the mother of my child. How could I ever be disgusted by you?"

I wondered if he felt any guilt saying such things, given the truth.

I looked at Jack and said: "I don't know why, but lately I can't stand the smell of oily foods. They make me want to throw up."

Jack nodded, seemingly satisfied with my explanation.

Then he added: "Mom is really worried about you too. She wants to come visit you at the hospital. She said it wouldn't look right if your in-laws found out you almost went into labor and she didn't do anything as your mother-in-law."

I thought to myself, they must be getting impatient after just a few days apart. Rachel probably worried Jack might actually fall for me if she wasn't around.

But I wasn't about to give them any chance to be alone together.

I found my phone by the hospital bed pillow and took several photos of the chicken soup from different angles.

Then I posted them on social media with the caption: Look at this delicious chicken soup my mother-in-law made for me! It smells amazing.

I despised Jack and Rachel with every fiber of my being. But to lure them into my trap, I had to keep playing along for now.

Within minutes, I got likes from my parents. They asked how I was doing and praised my "mother-in-law" effusively.

After that, I showed Jack the posts and messages, making it clear I was really trying to maintain a good relationship with his "mother."

Jack visibly relaxed after seeing the exchange. If I'd really discovered anything, why would I be so naive as to keep up appearances?

Then I said to Jack: "Mom isn't in the best health. The hospital isn't as comfortable as home. She's getting on in years - you should think of her more. Let her rest at home. If she needs anything, you can bring it when you have time to go back."

Jack started to object, but swallowed his words, probably remembering the doctor's instructions.

I knew I had to keep up the act of being affectionate with this despicable man, as nauseating as it was. It would drive Rachel crazy with jealousy to see us together.

I pulled Jack close and took a selfie of us with our faces pressed together. Then I sent the photo to Rachel.

Just imagining her panicked, anxious reaction filled me with satisfaction. Such a simple act, yet it would make her so miserable.

I'd been in the hospital for observation for a week now. I knew there was nothing wrong with me anymore - the doctor had cleared me to go home days ago.

But Jack insisted on keeping me there, unwilling to risk anything happening to the baby I carried.

While Jack was out getting food, Rachel came to visit, bringing bananas. She wore a forced smile as she set the fruit on the bedside table.

After pulling up a chair, Rachel reached out to pat my hand, putting on an act of concern. She focused on asking whether Jack was taking good care of me, if he was being gentle and attentive.

The more I praised Jack, the more her smile faded, until it disappeared entirely.

This old woman clearly had no common sense. She started peeling a cold banana to feed me, just as Jack returned with lunch.

Jack shouted: "Wait, stop! Don't eat that."

"What's wrong, honey?" I asked innocently, spitting out the bite of banana.

I saw anger flashing in Jack's eyes.

He berated Rachel: "You've never had a baby, so don't try to take care of her! Claire can't eat cold things right now. I told you to stay home - why did you come? If something happens to the baby, could you live with yourself? You don't know the first thing about caring for a pregnant woman..."

I was secretly delighted.

Rachel was caught off guard by the sudden scolding. She didn't know how to respond, tears welling up in her eyes. If Jack had continued, she likely would have broken down crying.

I kept playing dumb: "Honey, why are you yelling at Mom? She came all this way from the village to see me and even hand-fed me fruit. What are you so angry about?"

"And what do you mean she's never had a baby? Didn't she have you?"

Jack realized his slip-up could expose Rachel's true identity. He stopped criticizing her and just put the food down before rushing off to find the doctor.

For a moment, I had the strangest feeling. I almost wondered - if this man hadn't deceived me, could he have been a good husband and father?

But Jack had manipulated my marriage and my child.

Given what he'd just said, it seemed Rachel had never had children. Yet he was so concerned about the baby I carried.

I couldn't help but think of how much my rural parents valued having descendants.

Once I gave birth after nine months of pregnancy, Jack would probably divorce me quickly. Since I had no job, I wouldn't be able to get custody. The judge would surely award custody to him.

Then Jack would have Rachel act as the child's mother, and the two of them would live happily ever after.

What a perfect scheme they'd concocted.

But how could I let my unborn child become a pawn in their sick game?

After the doctor checked me over and confirmed everything was normal, Jack, Rachel and I returned to the village early the next morning.

I'd always vaguely sensed the villagers looking at me strangely, but could never pinpoint why.

Now that I thought about it, they seemed to purposely avoid me. Their looks made me feel like a trafficked bride rather than someone who came willingly.

Jack commuted to his job in the county town Monday through Friday. Since it was Saturday, he was home.

I went to the kitchen and made some tea with goji berries and red dates. I brought it to Jack in the living room, playing the role of doting wife:

"Honey, you've been running back and forth to the hospital all week. You must be exhausted. I made you some tea with goji berries and dates. I added sugar too - try it and see how it tastes."

Jack took the tea, glancing at Rachel who was watching TV. He seemed to be seeking her approval.

Then he looked at me standing there with my swollen belly and decided to drink the tea I'd brought.

My actions must have looked like I was marking my territory to Rachel, even though she didn't know I'd discovered her true identity.

After tending to Jack, I turned to Rachel to twist the knife further: "Mom, you must be tired from taking care of the chickens and ducks while I was gone. Now that I'm back, let me do the laundry."