PART 2 — THE SECRET I DISCOVERED IN CHICAGO
My lawyer, Evelyn, arrived less than an hour later.
She didn't ask me whether I was sure.
She simply placed her briefcase on the table and looked at the folder I had prepared.
“You kept all of this?”
“For three years.”
She opened the first document.
Hotel receipts.
Private flights.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
Messages.
Her expression became increasingly serious.
“You've been preparing for this for a long time.”
“I've been preparing for the day I finally stopped lying to myself.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Then we need to talk about one more thing.”
She pulled out a document.
“This came from Chicago.”
I frowned.
“What is it?”
“Corporate records.”
I scanned the page.
Vance Global had transferred several properties into a private company.
The owner was listed as—
Chloe Vance.
My heart sank.
“He gave her company assets?”
“Not exactly.”
Evelyn turned the page.
“He transferred them through three shell companies.”
I stared at the numbers.
Millions of dollars.
And one particular transaction caught my attention.
A luxury apartment in Chicago.
Purchased three years earlier.
The same month Ethan had moved there.
“Who lives there?”
Evelyn looked at me.
“Chloe.”
My hands tightened around the document.
“So they lived together.”
“According to the records, yes.”
I closed my eyes.
For three years, Ethan had told me he was working.
For three years, I had believed his excuses.
Late meetings.
Emergency flights.
Corporate dinners.
Exhausting negotiations.
All of it had been a lie.
But there was something else.
A transfer made only two months after Ethan arrived in Chicago.
The recipient wasn't Chloe.
It was a company called Vance Family Trust.
I looked at Evelyn.
“What's this?”
“I don't know.”
“Find out.”
She nodded.
Then I noticed the date.
The transfer had been made exactly two weeks after Ethan and I had discussed having children.
My stomach tightened.
Why would he create a family trust then?
And why had he never mentioned it?
* * *
That afternoon, Ethan came home.
He acted as though nothing had happened.
He kissed my cheek.
“I'm sorry about this morning.”
I looked at him.
“Are you?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where's Chloe?”
“She went home.”
“Good.”
He studied me.
“You're being unusually calm.”
“I've had a lot to think about.”
He smiled faintly.
“About us?”
“Yes.”
I walked toward the kitchen.
He followed.
“Mabel…”
I turned.
“What?”
“I don't want to lose you.”
The words should have hurt.
Instead, they sounded empty.
“You've had three years to decide whether you wanted me.”
He looked away.
“I made mistakes.”
“That's one way to describe it.”
He stepped closer.
“Give me one more chance.”
I stared at him.
Then I noticed his phone.
A message appeared.
Chloe: Did she find out about the baby?
My heart stopped.
I looked at Ethan.
He quickly turned the phone over.
“What baby?”
His face went pale.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You just received a message.”
“It wasn't important.”
“Then show me.”
He refused.
I smiled.
“That's what I thought.”
I walked upstairs.
He followed.
“Mabel, wait.”
I closed the bedroom door.
Locked it.
Then I opened my laptop.
I had already hired a private investigator three years earlier.
Not because I knew exactly what Ethan was doing.
But because something about his first month in Chicago had never felt right.
The investigator had found something I had never been brave enough to confront.
A medical clinic.
A private fertility center.
And a file registered under Ethan's name.
I opened it.
There was a photograph.
Chloe.
Pregnant.
My hands began shaking.
The report was dated two years earlier.
But the pregnancy wasn't the biggest shock.
The father listed on the document was—
Ethan Vance.
I stared at the screen.
Then I noticed another name.
Mabel Carter.
My name.
Beside it was a note:
LEGAL SPOUSE — UNAWARE OF PROCEDURE.
I couldn't breathe.
What procedure?
I called the investigator.
He answered immediately.
“I knew you'd eventually call.”
“What happened at that clinic?”
There was silence.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Ethan didn't simply have an affair with Chloe.”
My blood ran cold.
“What did he do?”
“He used your medical records.”
I felt dizzy.
“My records?”
“Three years ago, someone submitted your identity information to the fertility center.”
I gripped the desk.
“Why?”
The investigator hesitated.
“Because they needed your authorization.”
“For what?”
“An embryo transfer.”
I couldn't speak.
Then he said:
“Mabel…”
“Yes?”
“There was a pregnancy.”
My heart pounded.
“Whose?”
“Chloe's.”
I closed my eyes.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The reason Ethan had insisted I undergo medical testing three years ago.
The sudden questions about my family history.
The strange paperwork he had asked me to sign.
I had trusted him.
I had signed documents without reading every line.
And now—
I didn't know what had actually been done in my name.
* * *
That night, I confronted him.
“Did you use my medical records?”
Ethan froze.
“What?”
“Three years ago.”
His face changed.
“Mabel, listen—”
“Did you?”
He said nothing.
“Answer me.”
Finally, he whispered:
“Yes.”
My entire body went cold.
“What did you do?”
“I didn't mean for it to become this complicated.”
“You used my identity.”
“I was trying to build a family.”
“With Chloe?”
He looked down.
“She couldn't have children.”
I laughed bitterly.
“And I could?”
“You were my wife.”
“So you stole my future.”
“No.”
He stepped toward me.
“I thought you'd understand.”
“Understand?”
My voice cracked.
“You had another woman carry a child created from something connected to me?”
He closed his eyes.
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“You didn't just hurt me.”
I pointed toward the door.
“You destroyed my life.”
Then he said something that made me stop.
“There is something you don't know.”
“What?”
“The child isn't Chloe's.”
I stared at him.
“Then whose is it?”
Ethan's voice dropped.
“It's yours.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
He swallowed.
“The embryo was created from your eggs and my sperm.”
I couldn't move.
“Chloe gave birth to our child.”
Silence.
Then Ethan whispered:
“She was supposed to be your surrogate.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Supposed to be?”
He looked away.
“She changed the agreement.”
“What does that mean?”
“She took the baby.”
I felt the room spin.
“And you let her?”
Ethan didn't answer.
That silence told me everything.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
There was a photograph.
A little girl.
Around two years old.
She had Ethan's eyes.
And my smile.
Beneath the photograph were six words:
“Your daughter wants to meet you.”
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
“But Chloe isn't her mother.”
I looked at Ethan.
“Who is?”
His face went completely white.
Because apparently…
he already knew the answer.
