Framed as the Cheating Wife

That evening at dinner, the whole family sat around the table in an unusually heavy silence.

Clark and Melody exchanged a glance. In the end, Melody spoke first. She picked up some food and placed it on my plate, smiling sweetly.

"Mom, please don't be mad at us. Clark and I just feel bad for you. You and Dad look so tired living like this."

"Yeah, Mom," Clark quickly jumped in to agree. "Look at you. You're not even fifty yet, but you already have so much gray hair. You should let go and start living your own life."

They had started again.

I set down my cutlery and looked straight at Melody.

"Melody, are you pregnant?"

Her cutlery slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.

"Mom, h-how did you know?"

How did I know?

In my previous life, when everyone was pointing fingers at me, she suddenly clutched her stomach and fainted.

The doctor examined her right there and announced she was two months pregnant. The news exploded online.

A woman about to become a grandmother was cheating outside. She didn't even care about her pregnant daughter!

I reached out and gently placed my hand on her still flat stomach. My voice was soft.

"Silly girl. I'm your mother. I can sense every little change in you. Of course I know something like this. You're at an important stage now. You shouldn't be worrying about anything.

"I need to stay home and take good care of you and the baby. So from now on, no one is allowed to bring up divorce again."

After hearing that, Melody had no way to argue.

After all, what kind of mother would abandon her pregnant daughter just to chase a new romance?

My firm stance finally quieted the two siblings for the time being.

The atmosphere at home still felt strange, but at least things looked peaceful on the surface.

A few days later, Timothy left for a business trip to a neighboring city. He was expected to be gone for a week.

The moment he left, my "dutiful" daughter began making her next move.

That afternoon, I was watching TV in the living room when the doorbell suddenly rang. Melody ran to answer it and came back with a man.

"Mom, let me introduce you. This is George Carter. I ran into some trouble at work before, and he helped me out a lot. So today I invited him over to visit. I wanted to thank him properly."

I looked up, my gaze landing on the man before me.

It was him, the same man who had died alongside me in my last life.

He looked to be in his forties, wearing a crisp white shirt and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. He had a gentle, refined air about him.

Right now, he stood awkwardly by the doorway, holding a bag of fruit in his hand.

The moment he saw me, a flash of surprise crossed his eyes. It was the same look he had when we first met in my previous life.

It seemed that because I refused to divorce, Melody had run out of patience and brought him straight to the house.

"George, please have a seat," she said warmly.

She guided him to the sofa across from me, then hurried off to make tea.

A moment later, she returned with two cups. As she set them down, she shot a quick, sharp look.

I couldn't tell if it was meant for George or for me.

Either way, I saw it.

After placing the cups down, Melody glanced at her phone and suddenly acted surprised.

"Oh no, a friend just contacted me about something urgent. I need to go out for a bit. Mom, George is an important guest. Please help me take good care of him!"

After saying that, she grabbed her bag and practically bolted out of the house.

The living room fell silent.

Only George and I were left.

I looked straight at him and asked, "What did Melody tell you?"