My Wife’s Baby for Her White Moonlight Chapter 1

Eight months ago, I was ecstatic. I thought my wife’s rejection of her old flame meant that I had finally, truly become the only one she would ever lean on.

That day, the man had shown up with a terminal diagnosis, crying and begging my wife to have his child. She had simply looked at him with cold indifference, said, “The man I love is Luke,” and turned right into my arms.

Not long after, my wife told me the company was sending her overseas to launch a new market. She’d be gone for a year.

As much as I hated the thought of it, I smiled and helped her pack, reminding her to take care of herself.

Until today—our wedding anniversary. I flew across the ocean to surprise her, to give her the grand romantic gesture she deserved.

But the moment I pushed open the door to her apartment, I saw her. She was holding the arm of that same old flame, her belly so round with pregnancy it was impossible to miss, a radiant smile on her face.

The so-called business trip, I realized, was nothing but a perfectly crafted lie so she could have a baby for the man she’d supposedly left behind.

* * *

I let out a bitter, silent laugh and tossed the carefully chosen gift I was holding into the nearest trash can.

“Honey, happy eighth anniversary. I’m so sorry I can’t be there to celebrate with you.”

It was my wife, Ava, calling.

I stood there in silence for a moment before I could manage to speak. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you when I get back, I promise,” she said, her voice bright. “I have a huge surprise for you.”

You already have.

I watched as Ava leaned her entire body against her old flame, Daniel, her face a picture of pure happiness. The sight was a knife in my gut.

“Honey, this trip is exhausting,” she went on. “The workload is insane, it never ends.”

Still lying.

My hand tightened around my phone.

When we first got married, Ava told me that the greatest poison to a relationship was deceit. “Honey,” she’d said, “if you ever stop loving me, you have to tell me. Don’t lie. Don’t hurt me.”

And yet, here she was, lying to me, hurting me more than I ever thought possible.

The air felt thick, heavy. I couldn’t breathe.

“Honey? Are you still there?”

I tilted my head back, fighting to keep the tears from falling. My voice came out as a strained rasp. “Just got caught up with work.”

I heard her sigh in relief on the other end. “Okay, well, I won’t keep you then. Love you, honey!”

The line went dead. I watched as Daniel helped her into a car, his arm wrapped protectively around her. The moment the car door closed, the tears I’d been holding back finally streamed down my face.

I didn’t understand. Why lie?

Don’t lie, don't hurt me. Weren’t those her words?

I took a taxi back to the airport.

I had arrived full of hope. I left in utter despair.

A message from Ava popped up on my phone: [Honey, I bought you a gift. It’s that new gaming console you wanted. It’s already been shipped home.]

I typed back a single letter: [K]

Was this guilt? Was she trying to buy my forgiveness after the fact?

What a joke.

When I got back, I threw myself into my work, staying at the office until the early hours of the morning. My coworkers joked that I was trying to rack up overtime pay to buy Ava an extravagant welcome-home present.

They had no idea I was just trying to work myself to exhaustion, to numb the part of my brain that wouldn't stop thinking about her.

I first met Ava at her father’s funeral.

She didn’t cry. She just stood there, staring blankly as they lowered the casket into the ground.

Seeing her like that, my heart ached. I walked over and offered a few clumsy words of comfort.

What happened next surprised everyone, including me. She attached herself to me.

When I was at work, she’d find any excuse to be near my desk, inventing elaborate reasons to just hang around. On weekends, she’d drag me out to dinner, to go shopping, to see movies.

She just bulldozed her way into my life.

Finally, I had to ask her why.

“Everyone else who gets close to me just sees a pretty face,” she’d said. “Their intentions are never pure. But you’re different. I can feel it. You genuinely care about me.”

“My dad’s gone, and my mom is always working. I just… I really wanted someone in my life who truly, genuinely cared.”