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My Husband Cheated With His Childhood Friend Novel Cover

My Husband Cheated With His Childhood Friend

Terminally ill and watching her life slip away, she endures the ultimate betrayal when her husband Zaiden brings his childhood love, Mila, into their home, their business, and their marriage. His family torments her with allergic meals while he tells Mila to wait for her death. When Mila announces her pregnancy and demands a divorce, the dying wife is framed for assault—yet she holds two explosive secrets: she carries Zaiden's child and possesses the key to her own survival. She chooses silence, vanishing without a fight, leaving him to discover the truth too late.
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Chapter 3

Zaiden stumbled through the door in the early hours, his clothes drenched in that heavy perfume. Mila's scent. I'd know it anywhere. In my weakened state, the cloying sweetness made my stomach churn, but I choked down the bile rising in my throat.

He made a move to wrap his arms around me, but I placed a hand on his chest, nudging him back. "Why don't you shower first?" I whispered. He paused, his mind catching up, then nodded and disappeared into the bathroom.

His phone was on the coffee table, right next to my medical report. If he gave half a damn, he'd have seen the diagnosis. But he didn't. His eyes stayed glued to that glowing screen, soft and intent. What was he staring at?

The sound of running water filled the apartment. My gaze flicked from the bathroom door to the table. Balling my fists, I reached for Zaiden's phone.

Just this once, I told myself. After all, it'll be the last.

The screen lit up with Mila's selfie. It looked like a photo from her time studying abroad – standing under a maple tree, her smile bright and carefree. That innocent face, so naive.

That's when I realized they'd been in touch way longer than I thought. Or maybe they never really stopped.

A notification popped up: "Thanks for your help at work today," followed by one of Mila's flirty winking emojis.

My thumb brushed the waving bunny emoji. For a second it almost looked like pity—a small, useless gesture aimed at the wife no one saw. But that tap accidentally scrolled up, revealing thousands of messages stretching back who knows how long.

Zaiden stepped out of the bathroom, his face turning icy the moment he saw his phone in my hands. He snatched it away, and I asked, "Why are you still talking to her?"

"We grew up together," he shot back. "It's normal to keep in touch. My mom worries, so I'm checking in."

He took a step closer, and for a stupid second, I thought he might hold me. But it was only to grab his clothes off the coffee table. He headed for the door.

"Shit, I just remembered something for work. Gotta go," he said.

At this hour?

I stopped him, my voice breaking. "Please, you don't have to leave. Just… wait a few months."

"What?" Zaiden snapped, his patience gone. "You're overreacting. Stop jumping to conclusions and making idle threats."

My voice dropped to a whisper. "Just a few months. That's all I'm asking."

But he wasn't listening. The door slammed behind him, and I was swallowed by the silence.

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