The Anniversary Surprise That Ended Six Years of Lies Chapter 1

On the eve of our wedding, a heavily pregnant college student showed up at our door.

My usually ruthless and decisive fiancé, Liam, immediately dropped to his knees and apologized to me.

"I was drunk that night, I thought it was you. I swear it will absolutely never happen again."

The young girl, blushing, admitted that she saw Liam was wealthy and wanted to use the baby to secure her future.

Liam personally took her to the clinic for an abortion.

For the next six years, our marriage was the picture of perfect devotion.

Until our sixth anniversary, when I held my positive pregnancy test, ready to completely turn the page and start a family.

I was carrying a box of his favorite cake, arriving at the hotel where he was supposedly on a business trip.

Just as I stepped out of the elevator onto his floor...

I heard a woman's voice coming from around the corner, holding a six-year-old boy and sending a sickly-sweet voice memo.

"You're so bad... you insisted on finishing inside last night. My legs still feel like jelly."

"You have to go easy on me tonight, or I'm going to give you the silent treatment."

I couldn't help but marvel at how open people were these days, and out of sheer curiosity, I took a glance.

My entire body froze in place.

It was that exact same college student from six years ago.

* * *

Chloe seemed not to recognize me. She continued recording her voice memo, her tone soft and seductive.

"Make sure you shower and wait for me. I'm going to wring you dry tonight."

"I don't want strawberry flavor today, I want cheesecake~"

"Mommy, I want to eat the strawberry tart Daddy bought!"

The little boy called out in a sweet, childish voice.

Chloe crouched down and kissed his cheek:

"Okay, Daddy is waiting for us in the room. Be a good boy. When you see Daddy, you have to tell him how much you missed him."

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and sent Liam a text:

[Honey, are you busy?]

The top of the chat window continuously showed "Typing...".

But after a full minute, no message came through.

I dialed his number.

"We're sorry, the number you have reached is turned off..."

It seemed he had turned his phone off so he wouldn't be disturbed.

Chloe held the child's hand, her hips swaying seductively as she walked to the presidential suite at the end of the hall.

She raised her hand and knocked lightly three times, a cheerful rhythm.

A large, distinctively masculine hand reached out, grabbing Chloe's slender waist.

He pulled her and the child inside.

In the second before the door closed, through the crack, I clearly saw Liam's familiar face.

He was smiling so tenderly. He lowered his head to kiss Chloe's forehead, his eyes full of absolute adoration.

Then he scooped up the little boy, put him on his shoulders, and made funny faces to make the child laugh.

Click.

The door shut in my face, cutting off the happy laughter of their family of three.

A wave of dizziness hit me. My feet felt as heavy as lead.

The scenes from the past six years flashed through my mind like a movie reel.

I remembered how, no matter how late he worked, he would always cook me healthy soups, insisting takeout wasn't good for me.

I remembered how every time he traveled for work, he would send me his itinerary and bring back a suitcase full of my favorite local treats.

I remembered three years ago when he had the opportunity to transfer to the London office and be promoted to Executive VP.

But because I wasn't used to living abroad, he gave it up without a second thought.

He had said:

"Rylee, what's the point of conquering the world if I don't have you by my side?"

That night, I was so moved I cried in his arms until dawn.

I also remembered the day we got our marriage license six years ago.

Chloe, heavily pregnant, stood crying hysterically outside the courthouse, begging me to step aside.

Liam's face had turned pale with rage. He dragged Chloe into his car, saying he was taking her to the hospital.

Three hours later, he came back alone.

His hands were covered in blood, and his shirt was stained with it.

He dropped to his knees in front of me, knocking his forehead against the ground:

"Honey, the mistake has been taken care of."

"Please, give me one chance. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Those blood-soaked hands became a nightmare I couldn't shake for six years.

But they also became the ironclad proof that made me believe he had truly changed.

To give me peace of mind, he even voluntarily got a vasectomy.

"Rylee, we don't need kids. You are the only one I want for the rest of my life."

The vows were still ringing in my ears, but the man had completely changed.

My phone vibrated suddenly. My mom sent a text:

[How is it? Did you tell Liam the good news about the pregnancy? He must be thrilled!]

Fighting back the urge to vomit, my fingers trembling, I typed a reply:

[Just got to the hotel. Haven't had a chance to tell him yet.]