Chapter 1

On my wedding night, I caught my good friend Judson and my wife Doman in bed together.

Crying, they claimed they were drunk and confused. They knelt at my door for three days and three nights.

When they saw I was determined to divorce, Doman slit her wrists, and Judson got a vasectomy.

Under the repeated persuasion of friends and family, I eventually softened.

For seven years, she was gentle and considerate. Everyone praised her for knowing her mistake and reforming.

Until my father-in-law Andrew's birthday, when my six-year-old sister-in-law hugged Doman's leg and asked:

"Where's my daddy?"

I smiled and pointed at Andrew behind me:

"Jones, your dad is right there, isn't he?"

Jones turned her head and said crisply:

"I'm talking about my real daddy."

I froze and looked awkwardly at Doman.

Her expression remained calm as she looked up at me and said:

"Samuel, there's something I never told you.

Actually, Jones isn't my parents' child. She's mine and Judson's daughter."

I heard her words and froze in place.

My brain felt like someone had punched it hard. It was buzzing.

"What did you say?"

My voice was trembling, full of disbelief.

Doman put Jones down and patted her back:

"Be good, go to Grandma."

Jones bounced over to my mother-in-law Eve. Eve scooped her up, her eyes darting away, not daring to look at me.

Doman turned around, her expression so calm it was chilling.

"Jones is mine and Judson's child.

Judson got a vasectomy. He'll never have children in this lifetime, so I gave birth to her."

She paused, looking at Jones who was playing with Eve's hair, her tone as casual as discussing what to eat today.

"I originally planned to keep it from you for life."

I staggered back a step, grabbing the dining table behind me to keep from falling.

"Then you... why are you telling me now?"

My throat felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper. Every word tasted of blood.

Before Doman could speak, Andrew stood up.

He looked at me, his voice heavy:

"It was my idea."

I jerked my head up to look at him.

"Jones is already six years old. Your mom and I are getting old. We can't raise a child properly."

"We don't want to keep making this mistake!"

My chest felt like someone was squeezing it. I couldn't breathe.

Eve suddenly put Jones down and pushed her toward the bedroom:

"Jones, be good, go play inside. I'll come keep you company in a bit."

When the bedroom door closed, she turned around. The expression on her face had completely changed.

"Samuel, don't blame Doman. If you hadn't insisted on divorce back then, Judson wouldn't have gotten a vasectomy. We were the ones who told Doman to give birth."

She paused, her tone self-righteous:

"Judson is our adopted son. We had to leave him an heir!"

My brain went blank.

Doman had said back then that Eve had a late-life pregnancy and was afraid of gossip, so she went to Europe to give birth. Doman went along to take care of her for a whole year.

I thought she was being filial.

It turned out it wasn't Eve having a baby. It was her having a baby.

I raised my head and looked at Doman. This woman I had loved for ten years.

We met in college and married after graduation. I thought we were a perfect match.

But on our wedding night, she rolled into bed with her adoptive brother, my best friend.

I asked for a divorce. She knelt on the ground begging, her forehead hitting the floor with loud thuds.

Judson knelt beside her, a grown man trembling and crying.

Seeing I wouldn't compromise, the next day, she slit her wrists.

When I rushed to the hospital, she lay in the bed, pale as paper, but gripping my hand tightly.

"Samuel, I was wrong... please don't divorce me..."

"Without you, I'll really die..."

I softened.

Judson also got a vasectomy that same day, saying he would spend the rest of his life atoning.

Everyone urged me:

"She slit her wrists, he got a vasectomy. What more do you want?"

I thought about it for a whole month, convincing myself to forgive her, convincing myself to forget that night, convincing myself to love her again.

I did it.

For seven years, I forgot about that incident and treated her sincerely.

I thought she had really changed. But now it seemed, all of this was just a joke!

After a long silence, I raised my head and stared coldly at Doman, saying word by word:

"Doman, let's get divorced."

My voice was so soft I could barely hear it myself.

When the words fell, Andrew and Eve's expressions changed completely.

Doman also froze, her brows furrowing tighter.

"Over such a small matter?"

She turned her head, impatience in her tone.

I laughed, laughed until my eyes stung.

"Small matter?"

"Doman, you had someone else's child and raised her right under my nose. That's a small matter?"

She sighed, turned to look at me, her eyes calm.

"Samuel."

She placed her hand on her lower abdomen.

"I'm pregnant."

"Are you sure you want to divorce me?"