My Husband’s Childhood Sweetheart Moved In

After I explained everything that had happened, Cordelia's expression shifted. The comforting smile on her face gradually disappeared, replaced by a furrowed brow and a subtle hint of worry.

I understood, of course. After all, what mother wouldn't side with her own son?

It was only natural that she wouldn't want to intervene. Still, I had so much bottled up inside that I needed to vent to someone.

She opened her mouth as if to speak but stopped herself and shook her head instead. Just as I was about to ask for her opinion, the steaming spicy dish was brought to the table.

We sat at the dining table in silence, and an unspoken tension hung in the air. The meal was unpleasant, leaving me questioning if I had said something I shouldn't have.

Finally, just as the meal was coming to an end, Cordelia broke the silence. She began to say, "Henrietta being dismissed was indeed wrong of Harlan, but…

"Waverly, Tamsin and Harlan grew up together. Her parents entrusted her to our family before they passed away. We've always been responsible for her.

"With her current situation, I truly feel heartbroken for her. You know that your father-in-law has spent all these years abroad with her for her treatments. And besides, she's only staying for a short while.

"Why not just turn a blind eye to it? After all, she only has a few months left…"

As Cordelia spoke, my chewing slowed, and the spicy dish that had been so delicious moments ago suddenly tasted like ash.

To say I wasn't hurt would be a lie. I would have preferred her to remain silent rather than try to persuade me to be magnanimous.

I pressed my lips together tightly, suppressing my disappointment until it faded into numbness. After a long pause, I forced a weak smile to avoid looking as defeated as I felt.

"Alright," was all I could muster out.

After dinner, Cordelia asked if I wanted to stay the night. I politely declined and drove back to Harlan and my marital home.

By then, the lights on the first floor were all off. Only the light in the second-floor bedroom, which Harlan and I shared, was still on.

A sense of foreboding gripped me.

I opened the door and went straight upstairs to the bedroom without even taking off my shoes, wanting to confirm whether my suspicions were correct.

As I opened the door, I saw Harlan reaching to turn off the lamp. The wardrobe blocked most of my view of the bed, but as I stepped closer, the scene slowly came into view.

Before I reached the foot of the bed, a muffled female voice came from the bed. "Why haven't you turned off the lights yet?"

I could no longer contain my fury. I grabbed my handbag and hurled it toward the bed. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

The leather bag landed heavily on the bed, spilling my makeup items across the mattress.

The woman let out a muffled grunt of pain. Then she peeked her head out from under the blanket. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and her face showed a pained expression.

"Waverly… You hit my stomach… It hurts…"

Harlan didn't even have time to reprimand me. He immediately turned on the bedroom's overhead light and pulled back the blanket to check on her.

After a moment, he turned to me and shouted, "Are you crazy? What if you injured her? This is a human life we're talking about!"

Blinded by rage, I grabbed whatever I could and threw it at Tamsin on the bed. "What gives you the right to sleep in my bed?

"Get off!"

Seeing my outburst, Harlan climbed off the bed and stormed toward me. He reached me in just a few steps, and he slapped me hard across the face.

"Shut up!"