My Son Is His Only Heir

I looked at my small luggage bag, which contained only a few pieces of clothing and my medical license. "I have enough for now," I said softly while looking out the window. "Did you know, Chloe? Sometimes you have to give up everything to get what you really want in life."

Chloe sniffled. "I just hope you won't regret your decision."

I would never regret it, because I had taken away the only heir to the Jamesons' fortune and legacy.

Many things could change in two years. Connor and I were now living in a small apartment in East Cloverton. I would take him to kindergarten during the day and then head to the hospital for work. When nighttime came, I would cook and play with him, then tuck him into bed. Life was hard, but it was peaceful.

Scott and Rita got married three months after our divorce. It was a grand wedding, described by the media as 'a celebration of true love'. In their wedding photo, Rita wore a gown worth millions, while Scott looked at her tenderly, his hand resting on her waist. It was a tenderness that I had not seen for a long time.

Rita could not wait to get pregnant after their wedding. She thought that having a child would cement her position as Mrs. Jameson, so she could finally celebrate her victory over me, the ex-wife.

She constantly posted pregnancy supplements on her social media with the caption: [Looking forward to having our future baby!]

Comments would pour in with blessings and flattering words, but all I did was smile. I never reacted to her posts.

A year went by, and Rita still had not gotten pregnant. The Jamesons started to get anxious. My former mother-in-law started to hint at a grandchild both openly and privately, and Scott tried to play his part by quitting smoking and drinking. However, another year passed by, and Rita still could not get pregnant.

Rita began visiting the most expensive private hospital in Cloverton regularly for full health checkups, but the results were always the same. She was normal and healthy, yet she was still failing to get pregnant. Even Scott started to get anxious about it.

The Jamesons had only one son, and his parents had been looking forward to a second grandchild. His mother was especially insistent and constantly pressured them for one. What was even stranger about the situation was that none of Scott's kept lovers managed to get pregnant either.

Rumors started to spread like wildfire. Scott scoffed when he first heard them. Scott had conducted a paternity test when Connor was born, and the results confirmed they were father and son. How could he be the one with the health issue?

However, his relatives began looking at him strangely during family gatherings, and one late night, Scott's father confronted him in the study with an ultimatum. He said grimly, "Scott, the Jamesons can't have only one child. You should look into those rumors and make everyone shut up." That night, Scott stayed in his study alone the entire night.

When I received my department's call, I was preparing breakfast for Connor. "Dr. Rivers, we have a patient in the VIP room asking for you. It's Mr. Jameson from the Jameson Corporation."

I put down the spatula I was using to fry an egg and replied, "All right. I'll be there in thirty minutes." When I arrived at the hospital, Scott was already waiting for me in the consultation room.

He was seated across from me with his back straightened, as if trying to maintain the last of his dignity in front of me. "I want a semen analysis done on me. Run every test you have." His voice was hoarse as he got straight to the point.

I nodded and turned on my computer to enter the request. "Is this urgent?"

"Yes, it is."

The checkup lasted the entire day, with me personally checking every procedure. When the samples were sent for testing, my colleague working in the laboratory asked me in a whisper, "Dr. Rivers, isn't Mr. Jameson your…"

"He's my ex-husband," I replied calmly.

The report came out three days later. When I entered the consultation room with the sealed envelope, Scott was already waiting for me. There were dark rings beneath his eyes. "Tell me the results." He was direct, but his fingers gripped his knees nervously.

I did not reply right away. All I did was place the envelope on the desk and push it toward him. "You should read it for yourself."