Seven Years of Lies My Wife's Secret Child With Another Man

"The truth is, you never took me seriously. You never took this marriage seriously. "Otherwise, something like that wouldn't just slip out of your mouth. "Have you ever said the wrong thing in front of Clark?" Silence. I answered for her. "No, right?" "I—" "Edna." I cut her off. "Stop making excuses. "You don't care, and that's all there is to it. Just like I told you before—I was giving you one last chance." My eyes dropped to my name tattooed over her heart. I scoffed. "You only ever said you'd cherish our last chance. That's all it ever was—words." "I already moved things underground with him. What more do you want from me?" I stared at her, unable to believe what I was hearing. She looked irritated. "In these four years, have you ever seen a trace of him or his son anywhere near me? "No, right?" "Edna..." "Enough, Alex." She frowned. "If you hadn't been so petty and paranoid this time, you never would have found out. You wouldn't have ruined what we had. We could've lived out the rest of our lives together, perfectly fine." When a person reaches the peak of rage— They really do laugh. The complaint filed against the company should have been a matter for the legal department to handle. I didn't need to get involved. But the phone number on the complaint looked familiar. I recognized it as Alex's. I looked into it personally. And discovered that Edna had never truly cut ties with Clark. Edna let out a sigh. "Just pretend you didn't see any of it. "Alex, don't destroy what we worked so hard to rebuild." I laughed. I slapped the divorce papers down on the table. "If you actually valued this marriage, you never would have stayed in contact with him!" "What are you doing?" The moment she saw the words Divorce Agreement, her breath visibly caught. "Take it away!" She reached to tear the papers apart, but I pressed my hand down hard, pinning them to the table. "Edna, I told you. Four years ago was our last chance." "Alex..." "Three days." I locked my eyes on hers. "Give me an answer." "Alex! Alex!!" I walked out without looking back. She didn't stop me. She stood there alone, staring at the papers. Her fingers trembling. I waited two days. Edna didn't reach out. The messages I sent went unanswered. I decided to go home and press the matter in person. But the moment I reached the door, I heard the clink of glasses and laughter inside. "Edna, it's the last day on that divorce agreement. You're really not going to do anything about it?" "Do anything?" Edna scoffed. "He's the one out of line! He's the one who owes me an explanation!" What? My hand froze on the door handle. "Seven years of marriage—fine, I'll let the past go. Bringing Clark's son home was over the line, I admit that. I understand why he pulled out the divorce papers. "But these last four years, we've been more in love than any couple I know. Even when we fought, he never once threatened me with something like this." She waved the agreement in the air. "Has it ever crossed his mind how much damage this little tantrum is doing to us?" I clenched my jaw. One of her friends glanced toward the doorway. Her breath hitched. She chose not to say anything. Instead, she asked another question. "Edna, what if he's serious?" "Serious?" Edna smiled. "We've risked our lives for each other. Something like that doesn't fall apart so easily." "Then why did you go and have a child with Clark? I actually thought you'd turned over a new leaf."

Edna clinked glasses with the women around her. "When you've been through life and death together, there's no need to be as careful as you were at the start. We saved each other's lives. He and I are inseparable in this lifetime." I drew a sharp breath. My heart pounded faster, driven by rage. I closed the door quietly. It was time to go the legal route. While I had my people preparing litigation materials, Edna's message came through on the third day: [Instead of wasting time fighting with me, you should hurry up and compensate Clark for his losses.] Right after that, she forwarded a court summons. It was a lawsuit filed by Clark Dickerson. He was accusing my company of food safety violations. Claiming our products had caused his child's food poisoning. I hadn't expected that after I'd sent him into a rage last time, he still refused to give up. But that kind of persistence always had someone backing it. I called Edna. "You helped him file it?" She let out a soft laugh. Said nothing. The answer was obvious. "And if I refuse to pay?" "Sweetheart, think carefully. The team representing him in court is my legal department." My breath caught. "Why be so stubborn about this? Just accept it and move on." I gripped the phone tighter. "This company is a brand my grandfather built from the ground up. A century of reputation. You want me to accept the charges and destroy the brand the Sanchezes spent generations building?" Edna sighed. "Do you really have to make things difficult for him and his son?" "You're the ones making things difficult for me!" I clenched my jaw. "Clark gave his own child something he shouldn't have eaten!" Edna was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice had gone cold. "Then you're on your own." The line went dead with a flat dial tone. I stood there, gripping my phone. Theodore Simmons from the Legal Department looked at me with concern. "Mr. Sanchez, the Swansons have already sent us a cease-and-desist letter. Their team has never lost a case, domestic or international. We..." I clenched my fist. "We fight. And I'll be right there with you." Theo's eyes lit up. On the day of the hearing, when I stepped up as both the defendant and lead counsel, Edna visibly froze. She had no idea I held a law license. My phone buzzed. A message from her. I ignored it. I faced the Swanson legal team head-on. Throughout the entire proceedings, the expression on Edna's face was grim. She realized her lawyers weren't invincible after all. And that I had been hiding my legal expertise all along. When the court dismissed Clark's complaint, he sat there with his eyes burning red with fury. I shot a cold glance at Edna. Her expression was unreadable. It was only as the courtroom cleared that she caught me at the door. Her smile was slow, loaded with meaning. "Mr. Sanchez. Far more impressive than I imagined." "What, are you going to file an appeal for your boy toy?" "No." She smiled. "My husband is this talented. Why would I keep fighting him?" I stared at her, not understanding. She was already turning to leave. "Then I wish you, Mr. Sanchez, nothing but continued success." I frowned. "What is she up to?" That night, I stayed at the office. I went through the warehouse inventory, checked the security systems and fire safety equipment. Made sure there wasn't a single vulnerability to exploit. Only then did I let myself breathe. Theo walked out with me at the end of the night. "Thank God you were there, Mr. Sanchez. Otherwise those legal sharks would've bled us dry!"

"Mrs. Swanson is really something else. She actually had her legal team push to hand over all our operating revenue to Clark as compensation!" "The kid got sick because Clark fed him the wrong thing! How is that our fault? The favoritism couldn't be more obvious!" "Exactly! Whose wife is she supposed to be?!" Theo quickly clapped a hand over his colleague's mouth and shot a nervous glance at my face. I stiffened for just a moment, then smiled. "It's fine. Let's go." Relief broke across Theo's face. "Yes, sir!" We had barely left the factory grounds when an explosion ripped through the air behind us. Theo threw himself over me. A wave of scorching heat rolled past. I whipped around. Above the factory complex, flames clawed at the sky. "Dad! Mom!" I charged back like a man possessed. Theo and the others tackled me, pinning my arms. "Mr. Sanchez! It's too dangerous! You can't go in there!" "My parents' things are still inside!" "Mr. Sanchez!" They held on tighter. Fire trucks and patrol cars screamed onto the scene one after another. Caution tape went up around the perimeter. Everyone blocked my path, refusing to let me get any closer. My breath came in ragged, shaking gasps. "My parents' belongings are in there! Everything they left behind is in there! Let go of me!" "Even if that's true, it's already gone! There's nothing left!" The rescue worker pleaded with me, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. I stared at his soot-blackened face. Every ounce of strength drained from my body. I turned around. Not far away, a Rolls-Royce sat parked at the curb. A familiar face hovered behind the tinted window. Edna held a slim cigarette between her fingers, watching the scene with the calm detachment of someone enjoying a show. When she noticed me looking, she shifted the baby in her arms and smiled, slow and coy. In the driver's seat, Clark was finally smiling too. Edna stepped out of the car. "You humiliated Clark in court. Surely you didn't think there wouldn't be some payback?" I couldn't speak. "The inventory's all gone, I know, but I'll reimburse you afterward. Don't blame him. This was all my idea." My throat clenched, tighter and tighter. Everything inside that building held traces of my parents and my grandfather. When I was five, my father would carry me through those halls, my mother walking beside us. He'd point to each piece of equipment, one by one, and tell me the story of how the brand was built. They would ruffle my hair and say, "Someday this company will be yours. Take good care of it." "Dad... Mom... I'm sorry..." The world went black. The ground tilted and spun. Edna's composed expression froze. "Alex!" Before I lost consciousness, I heard her voice, panicked and shrill. When I opened my eyes again, blood surged up my throat and I coughed it onto the sheets. I looked around in a daze. The doctor. Edna. The doctor let out a heavy sigh. "Cardiopulmonary damage, triggered by extreme emotional distress. You already had preexisting injuries. Why weren't you taking better care of yourself? From now on, even one all-nighter could make you cough up blood. Do you understand that?" I closed my eyes. The old injury to my heart. That was because of Edna too. Back when we were still in school, Edna was always getting into conflicts with local thugs. Every time it happened, I stepped in to protect her. I took beatings for it. Knife wounds. Worse. The scar on my heart came from a fruit knife that had punched clean through my chest. For her. Back then, I had no idea that Edna was picking those fights to back up Clark. After the doctor left, Edna seized my hand and gripped it so hard her knuckles went white. "Alex, I'm sorry. I didn't know... I..." Her voice cracked. Her shoulders trembled. "You got hurt because of me... It's all my fault... I shouldn't have put you through this, making you pull all-nighters for two months fighting that lawsuit, and then... burning down your warehouse..."

"Does any of this even matter now?" I stared blankly at the ceiling. Because she wanted to avenge Clark Dickerson. Over a decade of my work, gone. All of it. She panicked. "Alex, I'll send him away. This time, I mean it." Her phone buzzed. She answered it. Her expression froze. "I'll be right there." "Where are you going?" I looked at her, eyes burning red. "It's Clark, isn't it?" She hesitated. "It's not him. The baby has a fever." "What about me?!" I seized her wrist and held on for dear life. She was just going to leave without giving me an explanation? How was that fair? She paused. Then pried my fingers off, one by one. "I'll be back." I watched her walk away, eyes still burning. I had no home anymore. But she did. Clark did. By the time Theodore came to see me, I had already fallen out of bed. He rushed to help me up. "Mr. Sanchez! Let me get a doctor!" "Don't bother." I stared straight ahead. "Discharge me. Take me home." I stood in front of the marital home I'd shared with Edna, a heavy coat draped over my shoulders. A torch in my hand. "Mr. Sanchez, are you really going to burn it?" I tossed the torch onto the pile of kindling. My voice was flat. "Yeah." I had carried Edna across this threshold once. Those beautiful memories were blinding now. If I was leaving, I'd burn the past clean. "Mr. Sanchez, do you want to say goodbye to Mrs. Swanson?" "No." The private jet was already waiting on the tarmac. I handed him the divorce papers. "Just give her these." The plane lifted off. The fire still hadn't gone out. I didn't look back. I was never coming back.