Secret Baby: The Jilted Wife's Final Goodbye
I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant.
But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over.
"Sign it,"
He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise.
I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth.
"It's just cramps,"
I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could.
Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus.
Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down.
He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.
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Chapter 3
Julian came back that evening. He wasn't supposed to. They were separated in all but address, yet he kept returning to the penthouse like a ghost haunting his own life.
Nancy was on the balcony. The wind was howling tonight, whipping around the high-rise and masking the sound of the city below. She was holding her phone, staring at a food delivery app, trying to find something that wouldn't make her stomach turn.
Because of the wind and her own anxious thoughts, she didn't hear the glass door slide open.
"Who are you waiting for?"
Nancy jumped violently. Julian was standing right behind her. He snatched the phone from her hand before she could lock the screen.
He looked at the screen. It was just a menu for a noodle shop. But his eyes were wild, irrational.
"Is this why you were packing so fast?" he demanded. "Is there someone else?"
Nancy stared at him. "You asked for a divorce yesterday. Why do you care?"
"I care about my reputation," he snapped. "I won't have my wife running around with some low-life while we're still legally married."
He was jealous. It was absurd, but he was jealous. He looked at her with a possessiveness that made her skin prickle.
If he thought she was moving on... maybe he would let her go faster. Maybe he wouldn't look too closely at her changing body.
Nancy straightened her spine. She looked him in the eye.
"Yes," she said. "There is someone."
The air left the balcony. Julian's hand tightened around her phone until the plastic case groaned under the pressure.
"Who?" The word was a growl.
"His name is Jack," she lied. The name came from nowhere. "He's... nice. He listens to me. He doesn't treat me like a transaction."
Julian stepped closer. He crowded her against the railing. He was so angry he was vibrating.
"Jack," he mocked. "Does Jack shop at Walmart? Does he drive a Honda? Is that what you're worth, Nancy? Average?"
"He's kind," Nancy said, her voice shaking. "Something you wouldn't understand."
"Kindness doesn't pay the bills," Julian spat. "You think some mediocre nobody can give you what I gave you?"
"You gave me nothing but a checkbook and a cold shoulder!"
Julian grabbed her shoulders. His grip was bruising. For a second, she thought he might kiss her. His gaze dropped to her lips, hungry and furious.
The smell of his cigarette smoke hit her.
Her stomach lurched. The nausea was instantaneous and overwhelming.
Nancy shoved him away, hard. She clamped a hand over her mouth and ran for the bathroom inside.
Julian stumbled back. He watched her run. He didn't see a sick woman. He saw a woman repulsed by his touch.
"Fine!" he roared after her. "Go vomit! Am I that disgusting to you now?"
He kicked a terracotta pot near the door. It shattered, sending soil and shards across the deck.
Inside the bathroom, Nancy retched into the sink, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm taking the Hamptons house off the table!" Julian yelled through the door. "You and Jack can live in a box for all I care!"
Nancy rinsed her mouth. She looked at her reflection. Her lip was bleeding where she had bitten it.
"Good," she whispered. "Hate me. Please, just hate me."
She heard the front door slam.
She walked back out to the balcony. She knelt down and began to pick up the pieces of the shattered pot. A sharp edge sliced her finger. She watched the blood drip onto the dark soil, bright red and undeniable.
Later, in his car, Julian dialed his private investigator. "I want a name. Jack. Associated with Nancy. Check her call logs, her gym, everything." He stared at the phone. "If he exists, I want him buried." But deep down, the lack of any digital trail for a "Jack" in the preliminary reports his security team ran earlier gnawed at him. Was she lying? Or was she just hiding him that well?