Chapter 2My Wife Was Pregnant for Her First Love

My blood boiled.

She had volunteered for this program, claiming it would help her career, but now I saw it was all a cover to hide her pregnancy in another country.

“A married woman having a child for another married man—you think that’s acceptable?!” I shouted.

“Ethan, don’t be angry,” she said soothingly. “Once I have this baby, I promise we can have one of our own.”

“Terminate the pregnancy now, or we’re done,” I said, my voice ice cold.

“It’s six months along—I can’t. And besides, it’s a life. It’s my baby. How could you say something so cruel?” Tears streamed down her face as she glared at me.

I noticed a used ashtray on the coffee table and men’s underwear drying on the balcony.

My rage ignited anew.

“Is Bryce living with you?” I snarled.

Her face turned crimson, and she stammered, “No… He just visits occasionally. To… to check on the baby.”

“So that’s why you didn’t want me to visit. You didn’t want me to catch you two in the act.”

“Ethan, don’t twist things! Nothing happened between us,” she said, her face red with embarrassment.

Just then, the door opened.

“Naomi, I bought you a maternity nightgown and some nursing bras. Try them on and see if they fit,” Bryce said as he walked in.

When he saw me, he froze.

“Bryce, you need to leave,” Naomi said hastily. “Ethan and I need to talk.”

“Why are you crying?” Bryce asked, moving to her side with concern.

“I’m fine. Just go.”

“Did he hurt you?” Bryce turned to me, his expression dark. “Ethan Whitaker, are you even a man? If you’ve got a problem, take it out on me.”

“Gladly,” I said, swinging my fist at him.

“Stop!” Naomi stepped between us, crying. “Ethan, how can you hit a cancer patient?”

“Move, or I’ll hit you both,” I growled.

“Ethan, you’re out of line! She’s pregnant!” Bryce shouted.

“She seems more like your wife than mine,” I said bitterly.

Naomi stretched her arms out to shield Bryce. “I won’t let you hurt him!”

Enraged, I shoved her aside and kicked Bryce in the stomach. He doubled over in pain.

“You… you hit me?” Bryce gasped, clutching his stomach.

I didn’t stop.

Naomi clung to me, begging, “Please, Ethan! Don’t do this. You’ll kill him!”

“You don’t get to defend him!” I roared.

“Then hit me instead!” she cried, collapsing to her knees.

This woman—my wife—protecting another man.

The humiliation was unbearable.

Bryce coughed up blood, his voice trembling. “If something happens to my child, Ethan Whitaker, I’ll make you pay.”

“Your child?” I spat, throwing another punch at his face.

The chaos was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Security. Open up!”

Naomi’s face drained of color.