He Cheated, Had Twins, And Still Wanted Me To Raise

Synopsis

A few years ago, our former nanny suddenly shared a post on her social media—a photo of her hugging a pair of twin boys. The caption read: [My two sons look just like their dad. Genes are seriously powerful.] I eyed the kids suspiciously; they bore an uncanny resemblance to Rickey Howe's eyes and features. Half-jokingly, I asked him, "Honey, these aren't your kids, are they?" Rickey's face went pale in an instant. "How could they be? Don't overthink it!" I didn't give it much thought at first. But then one day, I saw it with my own eyes: the happy family of four strolling into the amusement park. My heart turned to ashes. When I brought up divorce, everyone urged me to forgive Rickey—simply because I'd lost the ability to have children. After ten years of marriage, I still couldn't let go of our relationship. So I laid out one final condition for him. "The boys can be recognized as yours and join the family line, but you and Lucy have to cut all ties for good!" "Keep the kids and abandon the mother? Tamra! I never took you for someone so heartless." I'd miscarried three times because of him, losing my fertility forever. Yet he'd secretly fathered children with the nanny behind my back—and now he had the gall to call me heartless? No grief cut deeper than a dead heart. I pushed down the waves of despair churning inside me. Calmly, I replied, "Fine then. I'll step aside and let you two be together."