Chapter 3I Birthed His Secret Wife’s Baby

Drew knelt on the ground, wrapping his arms protectively around Cheryl, his eyes filled with nothing but absolute loathing for me.

I lay sprawled on the concrete. I didn't defend myself. I didn't say a word. I just dragged myself up on my hands and knees, reaching frantically for Toby to check if he had been hurt in the scuffle.

But before I could even touch his hair, Drew snatched him up.

"You're completely unhinged," he spat. "Cheryl and I are taking Toby. You need to go somewhere and get your head checked."

Toby looked paralyzed with fear, thrashing in Drew's grip, his little arms reaching for me.

"Want my mommy! I want Mommy!"

"Toby!" I shrieked, stumbling after them.

But the crowd of bystanders—these self-righteous strangers—stepped in my way, forming a physical wall between me and my son.

"The kid belongs to the married couple, lady! Just because you babysat him for a while doesn't make him yours. You can't beat biology!"

Every word they spoke was a knife twisting in my ribs. Tears blinded me. I stood there, utterly helpless, as Drew carried my sobbing child to his car, shoved him inside, and drove away.

"Give him back," I whispered to the empty street. "Give him back..."

The world tilted, went gray, and then completely black.

When I opened my eyes, the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room blinded me. Drew was sitting in the visitor's chair. He looked exhausted, a rare, deep crease forming between his brows.

Seeing me stir, he immediately leaned forward and tried to take my hand.

"Jolie, stop fighting this. Just rest." He sighed heavily. "I wired a million dollars into your account. Consider it compensation."

"A divorce settlement?" I croaked, and then a bitter laugh bubbled up my throat. "No, wait. It's a breakup fee. Five years of my youth, acting as a free surrogate and a walking blood bank... don't you think you're being a little cheap, Drew?"

He watched me quietly for a moment. Then, without missing a beat, he said, "I'll wire another million." He paused. "But Toby... I need you to stay away from him."

It felt like invisible hands were strangling me. My eyes burned, bloodshot and feral. "Why?"

"Because a boy needs his real mother. You have no biological connection to him." His voice was void of any emotion.

Fresh tears spilled hot tracks down my cheeks, but the fight hadn't left me yet. "I'll sue you. I'll go to the police. Bigamy, medical fraud, whatever it takes!"

Drew blinked, his expression softening into that awful, condescending pity again.

"Why put yourself through that?" he murmured. "Jolie... you know you can't win against my lawyers."

His gaze dropped to my lower lip, which I was biting so hard it was bleeding. A strange, unfocused look came over his eyes. As if driven by some dark, selfish impulse, his tone shifted, dropping into a low, husky whisper.

"If you really can't bear to be apart from the boy... there is another way."

I shot up, grabbing the sleeve of his expensive shirt, my heart hammering. "What way?"

Drew smiled. He turned his hand over and gently stroked my knuckles with his thumb.

"We separate, but we don't end things. I'll buy you a luxury condo downtown. Whenever I have free time, I'll bring Toby over to see you."

The silence in the hospital room was absolute. I let out two hollow, breathless laughs, then violently slapped his hand away.

"You want me to be your mistress. You want me to sit quietly in some condo while you play happy family with your wife, waiting for the nights you get bored and decide you need to get your rocks off?"

His brow furrowed. He maintained his maddening patience, speaking to me as if I were a petulant child.

"There's no need to make it sound so ugly. It’s an arrangement that benefits us both. Toby gets the love of two mothers, and I can still take care of you. You're completely alone in this world, Jo. I’d worry about you."

He spoke so softly, so tenderly, weaving a narrative where he was the benevolent protector. But I knew the truth now. It was just a pretty lie to satisfy his own insatiable greed. He wanted the trophy wife and the devoted martyr, all under his control.

My stomach churned violently. I threw off the thin hospital blanket and swung my legs over the side of the bed, putting as much distance between us as the small room allowed.

"Keep your money. Keep your condo."

Drew’s face darkened. He had thrown me a bone, expecting the pathetic, love-starved girl he had groomed to crawl back to him with gratitude. My rejection bruised his massive ego.

"Suit yourself," he snapped, standing up and smoothing his jacket. "I'm only offering this once. When reality hits you and you regret this, don't come crying to me. There are no second chances."

I wrapped my arms around myself, staring blankly out the window, refusing to give him another word.

The door slammed shut with a concussive force, leaving me alone in the sterile silence.

That night, I didn't sleep a wink. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Toby screaming for me.

At dawn, I checked myself out, packed a single suitcase from the house that was no longer mine, and left.

I was sitting in a cheap motel room, trying to figure out my next move, when my phone buzzed with an Instagram notification. It was a post from Cheryl.

“Baked a strawberry mango shortcake for my little prince! He threw a tantrum at first, but after Mommy force-fed him the first two bites, he gobbled it all up!”

My heart stopped. The blood roared in my ears, and my fingers shook so violently I could barely type.

“TOBY IS DEATHLY ALLERGIC TO MANGOES!!! GET HIM TO THE ER NOW!!!”

I hit send. Two seconds later, the comment vanished. Deleted.

I frantically hit her contact name to call her.

Call Failed. Number Blocked.