Chapter 1

I am a urologist.

I just found out that a patient who came in for a fertility check-up is actually sharing a wife with me.

I went home and asked my wife for a divorce.

She refused and looked at me like I was crazy. "We never even signed a marriage license, so how can we divorce?" she asked.

That was the moment I realized the truth. I was never the husband. I was the side-piece.

1

"My wife is stunning, especially her doe eyes," the man said.

"I really hope our child looks just like her."

The young, handsome man across from me hadn't stopped smiling since he walked in.

He kept talking about how much he wanted a beautiful baby with his wife.

I took his medical forms and asked casually, "What is your wife's name?"

"Her name is Lyra Sterling. She's the CEO of a major tech firm," he replied proudly.

I froze. My heart skipped a beat as I processed the name.

What a coincidence. That was my wife's name, and she also had those exact doe eyes.

I tried to tell myself I was overthinking it. But a cold knot of dread began to tighten in my stomach.

"Doctor Miller, is something wrong? Is there an issue with my results?"

His voice snapped me back to reality. I forced my eyes down to the lab report.

Finn Crawford. His sperm count and motility were perfectly normal.

"Everything is fine. You're very healthy," I managed to say.

He let out a long sigh of relief. "That's great. Now we can really focus on conceiving."

My hand trembled as I reached for my water glass. I couldn't stop myself from asking one more thing.

"Mr. Crawford, do you happen to have a photo of you and your wife?"

Finn grinned. "Of course. My lock screen is actually one of our wedding photos."

He held up his phone to show me.

But the screen flickered and went black. It had run out of battery.

I didn't get a clear look at the face in the photo.

Finn looked embarrassed and asked to borrow a charger. Then, he pulled a physical photo album from his bag.

"I have our newest shots right here," he said, sliding the album toward me.

The first photo showed him kissing Lyra in the snow, both of them in wedding attire.

"We took these for our sixth anniversary recently," he beamed.

"I just picked them up today."

The date in the corner showed it was taken two weeks ago.

That was the exact time Lyra told me she was in Switzerland for a business trip.

I pushed the album back before he could flip the page.

"That's enough. I've seen it," I said.

A sharp, stabbing pain flared in my chest. It felt like my heart was being wrung out like a wet rag.

I clenched my fists under the desk, trying to swallow the bitterness rising in my throat.

I had been with Lyra for five years. We had a beautiful daughter together.

And yet, she had a husband of six years.

This was the most absurd, humiliating joke of my life.