The husband brought his illegitimate child home.

My husband and I had been trying for a baby for years, with no luck. One day, he brought home his mistress's illegitimate child, telling me he was an orphan we were adopting. The next day, he and his mistress faked their own deaths to start a new life together. Right after they left, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't cry. I didn't rage. I quietly had my husband and his mistress declared legally dead and returned their son to an orphanage. Years later, my own child was grown, a brilliant student accepted to an Ivy League university. That's when my "dead" husband and his mistress reappeared, demanding their son back. "He's our biological child!" they cried. "We're his real parents!" 1 I had just joined a new mom's group online when I saw a strange post: "Ladies, I'm the other woman. I had a baby with my married boyfriend, and now I don't want to raise it. What should I do?" One of the other moms replied: "If the wife is barren, have your man pretend the baby is from an orphanage and bring it home for her to raise." "You and your man can go live your best life for a few years. When the kid is older, have him go back and divorce the wife." "Boom. You're a winner." I frowned, disturbed by the casual cruelty. That night, my husband, Mark, came home from work. I was about to tell him I was pregnant, but he spoke first. "Honey," he said, "we've been married for so long without a child. What if we adopted one from an orphanage?" My heart skipped a beat. The conversation from the mom's group flashed in my mind. I swallowed the words I was about to say and decided to test him. "Mark, what if we just keep trying? I went to the doctor today, and she said everything looks fine, that I can definitely still get pregnant..." "No!" he cut me off, his voice sharp with impatience. "We've been trying for years. What makes you think it's suddenly going to happen now?" "Besides," he added, his voice rising, "my mom is getting older. She's been dying for a grandchild. Can't you be a little more considerate?" When I didn't answer, he slammed his chopsticks down on the table. "Don't you dare give me the silent treatment! If you weren't so barren, I wouldn't have to resort to adoption!" "Every time I'm with my friends, they're all dads. I'm the only one who's not. It's humiliating." "I have a business trip with a client in a few days. We need to get this adoption sorted out before then." I inwardly scoffed. If I hadn't seen that post, I might have actually believed him. Seeing his desperation, I knew the truth. Before he could say another word, I nodded. "Okay. Whatever you think is best." His expression softened immediately. "Good. I knew you'd understand. I'll go pick up the baby tomorrow." 2 Mark, who usually took five-minute showers, spent over an hour in the bathroom that night. He didn't come out until I was already in bed. After he fell asleep, I opened the mom's group again. The "other woman" had posted an update. "Ladies, my man just talked to the old hag at home. Once the baby is with her, we're faking our deaths and moving to Europe to live our best life. In a few years, when the kid is older, we'll come back and reap the benefits. LOL!" She even posted a screenshot of their texts. The profile picture, though partially cropped, was unmistakably Mark's. The other women in the group were all praising her cleverness. I couldn't resist. Using a burner account, I replied to her post. "Aren't you afraid of getting caught?" She replied almost instantly. "Caught? That old hag should be grateful. Her womb is a desert. I'm giving her a child to raise. It's a win-win. I get my freedom, and my son gets a free nanny." Her shamelessness was breathtaking. I closed the app, my blood boiling. Mark was snoring peacefully beside me, oblivious. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I kicked him, hard, right out of the bed. He woke up with a yelp, dazed and confused. I pretended to be woken up by the noise, rubbing my eyes. "What's wrong, honey? Are you sleepwalking again?" He grumbled, rubbing the spot where I'd kicked him, and climbed back into bed. He was snoring again in seconds. I placed a hand on my stomach and silently clenched my other fist. You brought this child to me. Getting him back won't be so easy. The next day, Mark brought the baby home. My mother-in-law, who was visiting, looked concerned. "Mark, you and Chloe are still young. Are you sure you want to rush into adoption?" "I'm too busy with work, Mom," he said, looking uncomfortable. "I have to go abroad for a while in a few days. And you've always wanted a grandchild. Look how cute he is." He handed the baby to her. I glanced at the child. He was only a few months old, but I could already see the resemblance to Mark. My mother-in-law looked at me, her eyes filled with sympathy. I just smiled, as if to say, it's okay. That night, the mistress was back in the group, bragging. "The baby is with the old hag! We're off to Europe!" She posted pictures of two plane tickets. Soon after, Mark's suitcase was packed. "Mom, the company is sending me overseas for a while. Chloe, take care of the house, and the baby." He gave me a rare hug before he left, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. "I'll be back, honey." I waved goodbye, feigning sadness. When I went back to our room, I noticed he had taken the debit card from my nightstand. It was our joint savings account, with the thirty thousand dollars I had painstakingly saved over the years. I wanted to scream, but I held it in. I pulled a hidden safe out from under the bed. Inside were several gold bars and a few credit cards in my name only. My secret stash. Three hundred thousand dollars, saved over a decade of marriage. Never trust a man. A woman needs her own money. After Mark left, life went on. The mistress's last post was at the end of the month. A picture of two silhouettes kissing against a sunset. The location tag was in Italy. 3 I pretended I knew nothing. I took care of the baby and my mother-in-law. Two days later, I came home with the results of my pregnancy test. My mother-in-law was overjoyed and immediately tried to call Mark. But he didn't answer. She called his office, only to be told he had quit a month ago. Mark was gone. My mother-in-law was starting to panic. Just as she was about to call the police, I showed her the two pictures the mistress had posted: the plane tickets and the sunset kiss. "Mom, what are we going to do?" I sobbed. "I think Mark has been lying to us. Do you think… do you think he's having an affair? He took all our money and left us with this baby!" My mother-in-law's face turned to stone. "That bastard!" I pretended to faint from the shock. When I woke up, she was sitting by my bed, her face etched with concern. "Chloe," she sighed, "Mark has wronged you. It's my fault. I didn't raise him right." She pulled a bank card from her pocket and pressed it into my hand. "This is my life savings. I want you to have it." "Mom, I can't take this." "You're pregnant," she insisted. "You'll need it. Take it as my apology for my worthless son." I reluctantly accepted. Then, placing a hand on my belly, I said, "Mom, we already have one child to raise. Maybe… maybe I should get an abortion. With our financial situation…" "No!" she cut me off. "That's my grandchild! My only blood relative! You can't!" "As for the other one," she said, her voice hardening, "Mark was the one who insisted on adopting him. If he's not going to take responsibility, why should we? We'll take him back to the orphanage tomorrow." I was secretly thrilled, but I just nodded obediently. "Okay, Mom. Whatever you say." 4 The next day, I took Mark's son to the local orphanage. I told them his parents had died in a tragic accident. Just as I was leaving, a kind-looking middle-aged couple arrived, looking to adopt. They were immediately drawn to Mark's son. "His parents just passed away," the director told them. "It seems like fate that you're here today." I watched them for a moment, then walked over and gave them my contact information. When I got home, I sat down with my mother-in-law to plan our future. When I married Mark, he had wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife, so I had quit my stable government job. Now, with him gone, our only source of income was gone, too. I had my savings, but they wouldn't last forever. "Mom," I said, "I want to start my own business." She immediately took off the heavy gold bracelet she always wore. "You'll need capital. Take this. You can sell it if you need to." I gently put the bracelet back on her wrist. "I can't, Mom. Dad gave that to you. It's too precious." "Mark may be a scumbag," I told her, "but you've been nothing but good to me. I won't abandon you." She burst into tears and hugged me. I had my own selfish reasons, of course. A single mother, trying to work and raise a child alone, would have a much harder time without support. With my mother-in-law's help, I could focus on building a future for my child. My small business started to grow. My belly grew, too. The day I opened my first franchise location, my son was born. I held him in my arms and laughed at Mark's stupidity. He had a good life, and he threw it all away. By the time my son was four, he started to notice the absence of a father. I decided not to lie to him. I told him the truth. It was harsh, but better than a lifetime of lies. Three years later, my son was enrolled in the best private school in the city. My company went public. I was named one of the top female entrepreneurs of the year. We moved into a large house and hired help. My mother-in-law spent her days at yoga classes and beauty salons, picking up her grandson from school in the afternoons. We had completely forgotten about Mark. But some people just can't stay dead. After years of silence, the old mom's group was suddenly active again. The mistress, still posting from an overseas location, wrote: "Ladies, after all these years in Europe, my health is failing. I had to have a hysterectomy last year. My man and I miss our son so much. Is there any way for us to be a family again?"

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