My Husband Proposed to His Mistress Using My Stolen SonChapter 1
The day before my husband’s tech company went public, both my mother-in-law, Gemma Eldridge, and my son, Matty, suddenly had a relapse.
Concerned, my husband Chris took them back to the city overnight.
Still uneasy, I took a taxi over to check on them.
Instead, I heard his childhood sweetheart, Melissa Shaw, remark, "I'm glad I switched the babies back then. Or else, I wouldn't have survived raising a child with cerebral palsy."
Gemma, standing off to the side, looked visibly uneasy.
She murmured under her breath, “Is this really alright? After all, Nadine has taken care of us for ten years.”
Chris sighed. “I will give her some money when the time comes. That way, my conscience will be clear.”
During the listing ceremony the next day, Chris proposed to Melissa with heartfelt emotion, kneeling on stage as he did so.
The entire city erupted in celebration of their great love story.
Even my biological son, Tucker, held a bouquet, beaming with excitement as he acted as their flower boy.
And I stood hidden in a corner, clutching my thin, worn jacket tighter around myself.
“So the one whose mind wasn’t right was me.”
——
Later that night, I took a six-hour bus ride and then switched to a motorcycle taxi to return to the village. When I walked into the house, the old phone I had left on the dining table flashed with twenty missed calls.
As soon as I called back, my university advisor’s thrilled voice burst through the speaker.
“Nadine. I have found a treatment for cerebral palsy.”
Instantly, the ache in my chest melted into a warm rush. I never expected this.
After ten whole years, Dr. Daniel Pearson still cared deeply about Matty’s condition.
Clutching the phone, my voice came out hoarse with emotion. “Professor, when can we start the treatment?”
“I have already contacted the specialists abroad,” he said without pause. “Three days from now, I will come to the village and take you overseas.”
As soon as I heard that, guilt tightened around my throat. I couldn't help but think about how, because of Chris, I had decisively quit my mentor’s research project all those years ago.
“Thank you, Professor.” My voice cracked.
Just as I hung up, the wooden door behind me creaked open.