Chapter 1
I was scrolling and randomly saw a post.
It read, "Do men really put on a front until their wives have a baby, then show their true colors?"
There was a hot comment below.
[Why bother pretending? My wife's seven months pregnant, and I don't even have to fake it anymore. She's just a tool I use to get money. My real love is my childhood sweetheart, the girl next door.]
Some people were practically envious, while others asked if he weren't worried his plan would backfire.
He replied smugly. [No, I wouldn't. I only found out after testing her that her limits keep getting lower and lower.]
[What's more, I saved her when she was almost assaulted by some thugs. But she doesn't know I was the one who hired them, just to get close to her.]
[If I didn't care about her being 'damaged goods,' I would've waited until the thugs finished with her before showing up. That way, she'd be even more hopelessly devoted to me.]
Thugs, assault, damsel in distress, and he saved the girl.
I met Dylan Foster, my husband, in exactly that kind of 'hero saves the girl' scenario.
Just like that post said, I was also seven months pregnant.
*****
Although I tried to deny it, I couldn't escape the truth that the account behind that hot comment belonged to Dylan.
Dylan, the man who cherished me above all else before we got married.
And the one I'd chosen to spend the rest of my life with.
I took a deep breath, opening the profile of that account.
The profile picture was a photo of two people.
In the photo were Dylan and Chloe Reed, his childhood sweetheart.
It was a photo of the two of them in high school.
I recognized it right away because I'd seen this photo tucked away in the secret pocket of Dylan's wallet.
At that time, I was upset for days because he kept a photo of himself with another woman in such an important spot.
After that, Dylan replaced the photos in his wallet with those of the two of us.
He probably never expected that I'd find his account and spot the things he'd written.
I went through his old posts.
On May 21, 2025, it was our wedding day.
The post read, "I got married today, but I gave the wedding ring to Chloe. I told my wife I'd lost it, then bought a cheap plastic ring as a quick fix. My real wedding ring will only ever go on the finger of the one who actually matters to me."
I remembered that day.
This tall man, Dylan, was so torn up about losing the ring. He crouched down in front of me, eyes red, apologizing to me.
Seeing how guilty he looked, my heart turned to mush. I couldn't bring myself to blame him.
But on another post, I saw a photo of his hand clasped with Chloe's, both of them wearing wedding rings.
On June 20, 2025, was the day I first found out I was pregnant.
[She's finally pregnant. Now I don't have to stomach sleeping with her anymore. Now I have time to accompany my Chloe.]
I still remember the moment I told him I was pregnant. He was so happy that he actually jumped up.
It turned out that he had faked it, too.
Pinned at the top was a comment he left the day after the post.
[It really only feels right when you're with the one you love. That's great, talk about stamina.]
I felt sick to my stomach, but I forced myself to keep scrolling.
After that, he posted a travel log with Chloe every month while I was pregnant.
No wonder he went on a business trip for a week every month.
It turned out that he was actually out traveling with Chloe.
Dylan would even post smug little updates, documenting every time he crossed the line with me.
Ever since I got pregnant, I'd felt Dylan changing.
I just thought it was because I was getting more sensitive and emotional during pregnancy.
In addition, I thought it was just because Dylan's company was struggling in its early days, so he was always in a bad mood.
Under his posts, a bunch of sleazy guys just like him were asking for his secrets.
Of course, many people were roasting him, but he didn't even care.
Scrolling through those comments chilled me to the bone. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone.
Dylan, who was sitting next to me, realized something was off.
He leaned in with that fake look of concern on his face and asked, "What's wrong with you?
"Why do you look like you're shaking?"
My fingers instinctively locked the screen, and my eyes reddened as I looked up.
Before I could say anything, Chloe, sitting on Dylan's other side, covered her mouth and laughed.
She jeered, "Clara, has anyone ever told you you look like a pig, the kind that's about to be dragged off to the slaughterhouse?
"Dylan really deserves a medal for having to face your puffy face all day."
Everyone around us laughed.
Even Dylan seemed amused, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
I locked eyes with Dylan, my gaze icy. I asked, "Dylan, is this how your friends treat me?
"Or do you think of me the way Chloe does, as she said?"
Dylan's smile faded slowly.
He looked genuinely surprised that I confronted him, especially since I'd always let things slide for his sake before.
"Clara, Chloe's just careless. She doesn't mean anything by it. Don't take it to heart," he said, trying to smooth things over.
Seeing Dylan stand up for her, Chloe blinked, putting on her best innocent face.