Chapter 1

On my way home from a business trip, I casually turned on a podcast:

"After your wife cheats on you, would you still forgive her?"

A female guest from the same city called in:

"My husband not only forgave me, he even transferred the houses and cars into my name."

"But I cheated again."

"He can't do it—he can't get me pregnant."

"My in-laws wanted a grandson, so they sent his best friend into my bed."

"I'm pregnant now, and I don't know how to tell my husband."

I gripped the steering wheel tight.

For no clear reason, panic rose in my chest, and I called my wife.

The familiar ringtone rang out through the podcast.

After she hung up, that woman's voice asked:

"My husband just called me. Did he find something out?"

...

My chest went tight and airless, so I pulled the car over to the side of the road and lit a cigarette.

A month ago, I found out Wendy was having an affair, and she cried and begged me to forgive her.

My parents came to talk me around too, saying I was never home and that I should be understanding of her.

Gerard drank with me all night and said:

"Brother, I really don't want to see the two of you divorce."

"You dated in college and got through three years of long distance in grad school."

"What a woman wants most is emotional support and a sense of security. Honestly, this one's your fault."

After I got home, Wendy slit her wrists.

I rushed her to the hospital in a panic, and the first thing she said when she woke up was:

"John, let's not divorce, okay?"

My heart twisted, and I agreed.

For Wendy's sense of security, I transferred five houses and three cars into her name.

A month later, she cheated again.

This time, she was pregnant.

The podcast went on.

The host kept asking:

"So why can't your husband have children?"

"When we got married, I wanted to be childless, so I had him get a vasectomy."

The host cut her off:

"Ma'am, let me correct you. Your husband isn't infertile—he did it for you, to be childless."

"If you want a child, just have your husband get it reversed. Why use another man to father a child?"

Right, why?

I'd like to know too.

But Wendy didn't answer.

The host kept asking:

"Then why don't you get a divorce?"

Wendy hemmed and hawed:

"My husband supports our whole family, including my in-laws."

"What about his friend?"

"His friend works at my husband's company too."

"Right now all I want is a way to keep the child without divorcing."

The host was a little at a loss for words:

"Getting forgiven for cheating once is already good enough—there won't be a second time."

"So either you abort the child and live a good life with your husband."

"Or you get ready to divorce him."

Wendy hesitated a few seconds, then said:

"But my husband really loves me. He'll definitely forgive me."

"I'll think about it some more. The main thing is I really do want a child."

A ding.

The call dropped.

I lowered my head and gave a self-mocking laugh.

When we got married, Wendy was the one who insisted on being childless, and now she's the one who wants a child.

She doesn't want to have a child with me, but she wants to keep Gerard's.

The phone rang.

It was Gerard.

"John, are you back from your trip yet?"

"Your wife's worried about you, so she asked me to call and check in."

I shot back:

"Is that so? You're with Wendy?"

Gerard raised his voice, like he was trying to prove something:

"No, how could I be?"

"Your wife's home alone. It wouldn't be right for me to go over."

"Then tell her I'll be home soon."

With that, I hung up.

I looked at the call recording and pretended I hadn't heard the woman's voice in the background.

I opened the robot vacuum's video feed on my phone.

A week away on business, and every single day there was a pair of men's leather shoes.

I knew those shoes. They were a birthday gift I gave Gerard.

Ten thousand, custom-made.

I turned the key. Thirty minutes to home.

Enough time for them to clean up.

The elevator doors opened, and my parents were blocking the door.

"John, Wendy went out to buy groceries for you. We forgot our keys."

Listening to the sounds inside, watching my parents scramble to cover for her, my heart went cold, inch by inch.

So my parents had known all along.

They'd hidden it all from me, just to get a grandson.

"Dad, Mom, our place has a keypad lock. Did you forget?"

I stepped past them, and before I even keyed in the code, the door opened.

Gerard stood in front of me, pulling up his pants.