My CEO Husband Cheated While I Carried His Child

Chapter 2

Ethan's phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, the screen lighting up with a notification. As always, he didn’t bother hiding anything from me. Did he really believe I was that blind?

The shower was still running, the sound of water muffling my movements. With a deep breath, I heaved myself up from the couch, my swollen belly making every motion slow and deliberate. I grabbed his phone, my fingers hovering over the lock screen. I tried the obvious—our anniversary, his birthday, mine—but none worked. Then, with a bitter taste in my mouth, I typed in the date from Lila’s last ultrasound.

The screen unlocked.

My lips pressed into a thin line as I swiped into his messages. There she was—Lila. Their matching profile photos mocked me.

He had written, "If love lasts forever," and she had replied, "Does it matter if we're together every day?"

I scrolled further, my stomach twisting at the flood of "I miss you, baby" and "When can I see you again?" Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hit record, capturing every damning word.

Next, I checked his shopping app. My breath hitched. Pregnancy vitamins. Skincare. Makeup. All shipped to the same address—Willow Creek Villas. Every single package was for her.

One hand cradled my belly, the other took screenshots. I sent everything to myself, wiped the traces, and placed the phone back exactly where I’d found it.

I shuffled back to the bedroom, my body heavy with exhaustion and betrayal. The moment I lay down, the weight of it all crushed me. Seven years. Seven years of marriage, and I was nothing but a joke to him.

The bathroom door creaked open. Ethan stepped out, towel slung low on his hips, his phone ringing. Through the half-open door, I watched his expression soften as he answered. He glanced toward the bedroom, then slipped onto the balcony, shutting the door behind him.

Curiosity burned like acid in my chest. I forced myself up and crept to the door, pressing my ear against the wood. I couldn’t hear the words, but his voice was tender, his smile small and private. Then, something changed—his brow furrowed, discomfort flashing across his face. But just as quickly, he relented, nodding with that same indulgent smile.

The cold in my chest spread.

I dragged myself back to bed, the air thick and suffocating. A few minutes later, Ethan tiptoed in, his hand warm against my belly, his fingers brushing my hair back.

"Sophia," he murmured, "there’s an emergency at work. I have to go in."

I turned my head, meeting his eyes. One last chance. "I don’t feel well," I whispered. "Can’t you stay?"

For a heartbeat, I thought—maybe. Maybe if he chose me, just this once, I could find a way to forgive him.

But then I remembered: a broken thread can never be tied back together.

Ethan sighed, his smile apologetic. "Sweetheart, this is important. I can’t skip it."

"I’ll call your mom to come stay with you, okay?"

Nausea rolled through me, my skin prickling. Still, I forced out the words: "Drive safe."

I lay still, listening as he dressed and left. The moment the front door clicked shut, I pushed myself up, cradling my belly, and headed downstairs. A taxi was already waiting.

"Willow Creek Villas," I told the driver.

The car sped through the streets, and as we turned into the neighborhood, I spotted Ethan’s car pulling into a driveway. My stomach clenched. "Stop behind that tree," I ordered.

From the backseat, I watched as Lila rushed into his arms like a lovesick fool. He caught her, his hand resting possessively on her flat stomach, his expression softening as he tapped her nose playfully.

My fingers trembled as I lifted my phone, recording every second—Ethan lifting her into the passenger seat, buckling her in with exaggerated care.

My eyes burned, but I refused to cry.

"Follow that car," I told the driver.

The city lights blurred past the window, neon streaks against the night. My nails dug into the seat until they split, the sharp pain grounding me. I bit down on my bleeding fingers, the metallic taste sharp on my tongue.

"Sophia," I whispered to myself, "just endure it. The pain will pass."

When we arrived at Pinecrest Medical Center, I paid the driver silently.

As I stepped out, the man turned to me, his voice unexpectedly gentle. "Miss… take care of yourself. For the baby’s sake."

Since discovering Ethan’s betrayal, I hadn’t told a soul. The secret had festered inside me, eating me alive. But this stranger’s kindness? It was a lifeline.

I shut the door softly, offering him a small, bitter smile.

"Don’t worry," I said. "No one can hurt me anymore. I’m ready to take out the trash."