Deadly Love, My Husband's Secret Sin

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My hand slipped, the phone clattering to the floor, cutting off the call.

I stared down at my swollen belly, gently caressing it, tears welling in my eyes.

It all made sense now, why John never seemed excited when I asked him to feel the baby kick.

He knew all along. He knew our baby was never meant to be born.

...

John emerged from the bathroom, a smile playing on his lips. "Hey, honey, how's our little troublemaker doing? Giving you a hard time again? Let me tell him to behave!"

I lifted my tear-streaked face, the accusations caught in my throat.

Seeing the concern etched on his face as he rushed to my side, pulling me into a tight embrace, I hesitated.

"What's wrong, babe? Are you feeling anxious again? I'm here, don't worry."

His touch sent a chill down my spine.

How could he be so cruel?

Secretly ending our child's life, maintaining his relationship with his mistress, all while whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

A bitter taste filled my mouth. I placed my hand on my stomach, testing the waters.

"John, why why don't I feel the baby moving anymore?"

He leaned down, pressing his ear against my belly. I watched his face, catching the flicker of impatience in his eyes before it vanished, replaced with a tender smile.

"He's moving, honey. He's just being playful. You're just anxious, that's all. I'm right here with you."

Just as I opened my mouth to confront him about the phone call, his assistant knocked on the door.

"Mr. Lewis, the doctor needs to speak with you about the surgery."

John glanced at me, his voice soft and reassuring. "I'll be right back, sweetheart. Just a quick chat with the doctor."

He always insisted on having medical discussions in my presence, worried about my health.

At the door, the assistant lowered his voice. "She's been demanding to see you, sir. I'm worried her emotional state might affect the baby."

My heart clenched. I followed, unnoticed, watching John disappear into the next room.

In his haste, he'd left the door slightly ajar.

Lying in the bed was Sarah, our housekeeper's daughter.

John's face lit up as he leaned over her belly, his voice a gentle murmur. "See? The baby's fine. You're going to be a mom soon, stop being so dramatic. Don't scare me like that again, okay?"

He tapped Sarah's forehead affectionately. She giggled, grabbing his hand and kissing it. "I just missed you. You spend all your time with her, can't you spend a little time with me?"

John bent down, showering her with kisses. "I just need to keep her calm for a little while longer. How else am I going to convince her to raise our child?"

"Everything I'm doing is so our child can inherit Lewis Enterprises, you know that, right?"

Weakness washed over me. I stumbled back, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a sob.

Not only had he killed our child, he planned to have me raise his child with Sarah.

Ten minutes ago, this man held my hand, whispering words of love. Now, he was in another woman's room, plotting my future as a unwitting mother to his illegitimate child.

If I hadn't heard it with my own ears, I would never have believed it. This was the man I'd loved for eight years.

The sounds of their lovemaking drifted from the room. Sarah's laughter echoed, followed by a breathless, "John, the doctor said a little fun is okay now that I'm in my third trimester Oh! You're so bad!"

I watched, frozen, as if in a trance, before turning and walking away, each step heavier than the last. I headed straight for the doctor's office.

"Dr. Miller, please tell me the truth. Has my baby stopped moving?"

The words came out surprisingly calm, perhaps because my heart was already numb.

Dr. Miller adjusted his glasses, his eyes darting away before finally settling on mine. "Mrs. Lewis, I shouldn't tell you this without Mr. Lewis's permission, but your baby your baby stopped developing two months ago."

He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

He knew the risks of carrying a stillborn child for two months. John wanted me to give up on our child completely, so I would agree to raise another.

I spoke calmly. "Dr. Miller, I need a favor. After the surgery, could you tell John that I died on the operating table?"

Dr. Miller's face was etched with guilt. "Yes. I can do that."

Leaving the doctor's office, I ran into Sarah, out for a stroll, John patiently supporting her arm.

John's face paled when our eyes met. He instantly released Sarah and hurried toward me, his voice laced with concern. "Honey, I've been looking everywhere for you! Why are you out here alone? It's dangerous!"

Fresh, red scratch marks adorned his chest, a stark reminder of their recent passionate encounter.

I forced a bitter smile. It was dangerous, the danger of me discovering his affair.

"I wasn't feeling well," I said coldly, subtly distancing myself from his touch. "I wanted to ask Dr. Miller some questions."

Sarah approached, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Wow, John, you're so attentive. Gone for two minutes and you're already searching the whole hospital for her."

The mockery in her tone was impossible to ignore.

Before I could respond, John snapped at her, his face darkening. "None of your business, Sarah. Just go!"

He used annoyance and indifference to mask their illicit relationship.

But as I watched Sarah storm off, the concern in his eyes was unmistakable.

I noticed a St. Christopher medal hanging from Sarah's waist, similar to the one he'd given me, yet subtly different.

Back in our room, I discreetly searched for St. Christopher medals online. Mine was a cheap imitation, Sarah's was the real deal.

When I first discovered I was pregnant, John hadn't seemed particularly thrilled. He'd remained strangely detached.

Then, he'd spent a day and night at a church, praying and copying scriptures, returning with the medal, claiming it would protect our baby.

Id convinced myself he was simply bad at expressing his emotions, touched by his grand gesture.

It was all a lie. He'd prayed for Sarah's baby, not ours. The medal was a fake, just like his love.

John offered me a sliced apple, which I waved away. He looked bewildered.

After a moment, he asked tentatively, "Honey, did you answer my phone this morning?"

He waited anxiously for my reply, his unease growing with my silence. He asked again, "Did you hear anything?"

I turned my face away, feigning exhaustion. "No. Your phone was too far away. I knocked it on the floor trying to reach it."

John visibly relaxed, his usual cheerful demeanor returning as he tucked the blanket around me.

His voice was soft, almost pleading. "Honey, if if something happens to our baby would you consider adopting?"

He was already eager to fulfill his promise to Sarah.

I curved my lips into a sardonic smile. "Do you remember the vows we made when we got married?"

"You said if you ever betrayed me, you'd live with the guilt forever. You'd never find peace."

The irony was crushing. Vows, as beautiful as they were, could be as fleeting as shooting stars.

John stared at me, his eyes wide with panic, shaking his head vehemently. "Honey, I would never betray you! You have to believe me!"

I shrugged, turning my face into the pillow. "I'm tired."

I was tired of pretending. Tired of this charade of love.

The day before my due date, I went home.

John had insisted I stay at the hospital since I'd gotten pregnant, medical staff on call for any discomfort.

Now, there was nothing to worry about. Our baby would never be born.

The house was filled with baby supplies. Id once believed they were tokens of John's excitement, preparations for our child. Now, I realized they were meant for Sarah's baby.

The computer was on. I glanced at the document on the screen. It was a legal declaration naming the heir to Lewis Enterprises. Further down, the mother's name: Sarah Peterson.

Our wedding photos adorned the walls, alongside snapshots from our dating days. Even the ceramic mugs we'd painted together in college were displayed prominently.

The memories, once cherished, now felt like shards of glass piercing my heart.

Did John still love me? I ran my fingers over his smiling face in our wedding photo.

We were the perfect couple, everyone said so. John spoiled me, making everyone envious.

I remembered the day I accepted his proposal. Hed held me, tears streaming down his face, vowing to love me forever, to never let me go.

I remembered the time hed mistakenly slept in my bed after Sarah had a fever. Hed been furious, threatening to fire the housekeeper and her daughter.

Id pleaded with him, reminding him of the housekeepers age and Sarahs student status. Id convinced him to let them stay.

Now, I realized my compassion had paved the way for my heartbreak.

The signs of John's infidelity had been there all along. He often went to Sarahs room, claiming he was helping her with her homework. What homework did a college student need help with?

Hed given Sarah his heart, his affection, and now, he was giving her his fortune.

Eight years. What had they given me? Lies, deceit, and a heartbreaking betrayal.

The front door opened. John and Sarah stumbled in, locked in a passionate embrace.

I stood frozen, feeling like an intruder in my own home, watching them act like a lovestruck couple.

Sarah's moans filled the house. She tilted her head back, her voice breathless. "John, if we'd met sooner, would you have married me?"

John groaned, his voice a husky whisper. "Don't be ridiculous! If it weren't for Amy, I wouldn't even look at you!"

"But you still slept with me," Sarah retorted, her voice laced with a triumphant smirk. "You even said it was more exciting knowing Amy was home. You're such a liar."

Sarah's moans grew louder. I covered my ears, desperate to escape, but John's words cut through the silence, each one a dagger to my heart.

"I still love her," he admitted, his voice strained. "But eight years is a long time. A little excitement is only natural, right?"

So, that was his excuse. I let out a hollow laugh, the sound devoid of any humor.

The pain in my chest intensified, spreading through my body. A sharp, agonizing cramp ripped through my abdomen.

I doubled over, collapsing to the floor with a thud. The sound startled John.

He rushed towards me, his clothes askew, his eyes wide with panic as he scooped me into his arms.

In the car, he clutched my hand, his body trembling with fear. His concern was genuine, but so were the marks on his chest.

"Honey, just wait until after the baby is born. I'll explain everything then"

A single tear escaped my eye. I turned my face away, a bitter smile twisting my lips.

In the operating room, Dr. Miller prepared the injection. "This will induce a temporary coma-like state for about a day. Are you ready?"

I nodded, my face ashen. "Dr. Miller, the consent forms please replace them with the divorce papers."

"Alright."

The needle pierced my skin, numbness spreading through my veins. I closed my eyes, welcoming the darkness.