My Husband Had a Child With Someone Else While I Was Carrying His Chapter 03

My Husband Had a Child With Someone Else While I Was Carrying His Chapter 03

Lucas was strong, and his grip turned my knuckles white. He ignored my struggle and hauled me out of the hospital, then shoved me into the car.

The car doors locked. Neither of us said a word the whole way.

When we got home, and I pushed the door open, I couldn’t breathe.

In the corner of the living room, the baby cradle I had put together myself was still standing there. The hospital bag I had packed weeks ago still sat on the couch.

Lucas took off his coat and came over to hold me, but I turned aside and slipped out of his reach. His hand stopped in midair, and he let out a sigh.

“Rachel, I was wrong about today. But I didn’t have a choice. Sally’s baby was breech, the delivery was high-risk, and I couldn’t just not be there.”

His voice was so calm that no one would ever have guessed he’d just been caught red-handed.

“She only just had the baby, so she can’t handle any stress right now.”

“And a newborn needs its father. You’re far along now, your pregnancy is high-risk, and a divorce would be bad for your health. Let’s get the baby here safely, and then we’ll talk about the future. Okay?”

I looked at his face, so sure it was in the right. “Lucas, do you really think that as long as you’re willing to sweet-talk me, I just have to sit here and take it?”

He frowned. “Rachel, I’ll give you and the baby the best care money can buy. I’ve already lined up a nanny and a night nurse. All you have to do is rest well, and I’ll handle everything else.”

He was dressing up his stalling as responsibility, and what he really wanted was to keep both women and both children in his grip. I didn’t argue. I turned and walked into the bedroom.

I pulled open the drawer and dug out the thick old photo album.

Five years ago, he had told me he was leaving on a business trip, but in one of the photos, a corner of a pink skirt was visible in the background.

Three months ago, his online shopping history showed that he had bought two of the same pregnancy pillow, and the other one had shipped out three days before mine.

Early in my pregnancy, he had sent me a playlist of music for the baby, and in the notes, there was a tiny S. I had thought it was some work label of his. With every page I turned, the sickness in me settled a little deeper.

Lucas came in with a glass of warm milk and set it on the nightstand.

“Rachel, stop letting your mind run wild. You’re showing signs of a threatened miscarriage, and keeping this baby is going to cost a fortune. You can’t carry that on your own. Do it for the baby, and stop making a scene.”

He was certain I couldn’t leave him, certain that the money and the baby would tie me down. I looked at him and said nothing.

Later that night, Lucas went off to the study.

I was lying in bed when my phone buzzed, and it was a video from a number I didn’t know.

I opened it. In the video, Lucas was holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket and soothing it in a low voice. “There, there. Daddy’s here.”

Off camera, Sally’s voice came through.

“Rachel, your baby isn’t even born yet, and Lucas is already calling himself Daddy to my son. Once your baby finally comes, how much of him do you really think will be left over for yours?”

The video cut off. My hand clenched around the sheets.

A sharp, dragging pain shot low through my belly. I clutched my stomach as cold sweat broke across my back and glued my nightgown to my spine.