Chapter 1

Every month, like clockwork, my wife, Sarah Miller, would go on a "business trip" during her ovulation period. We'd been married for years, but still no kids. I decided to surprise her one trip, flew out to her city, and saw her leaving a fertility clinic with Ethan Reed, a hotshot doctor who’d just returned from studying abroad. Turns out, those “business trips” were for artificial insemination ― with Ethan’s sperm.

When I confronted her, she was totally unapologetic. “I’m just borrowing his genes, honey. I want our child to have the best possible start. Does the biological connection really matter? The kid will still call you Dad.”

"Divorce," I said. I wasn’t about to be anyone’s patsy. This kid? Whoever wanted to be the father could be the father. Not me.

...

1

After they left the clinic, I slipped the receptionist some cash and got the whole story. Artificial insemination. My wife. And Ethan. Great. Just great.

I flew home that night. Sarah arrived shortly after, kicked off her heels, and collapsed on the couch. “Honey, my feet are killing me. Foot rub?”

I sat on the other end of the couch, scrolling through my phone, pretending not to hear.

She waited, her perfectly pedicured toes, still encased in black stockings, wiggling expectantly. When I didn’t jump up with the basin and hot water, she looked surprised. “Mark? Did you hear me?”

“Yeah.” My eyes stayed glued to the phone.

“Well? If you’re too tired, I can just go to that fancy foot spa again. You did just load my account with another ten grand, after all.” She smiled, then ran her foot up my leg. “But I prefer your touch. You know I love it when you pamper me.” She winked. “And you always said you loved rewarding me.”

I glanced at her flat stomach, then pushed her leg away and stood up.

Confusion flickered across her face. “Mark, what’s wrong? Is something bothering you?”

“Nothing. I’m tired. Going to bed.”

I went to the bedroom and lay down. Sarah followed, a small, elegantly wrapped box in her hand. “Honey, I got you something on my trip. Want to open it?”

Her fake enthusiasm irritated me. A gift from her trip? Probably a nice, shiny green hat. I ripped the wrapping off. Inside were three watches, two large, one small. I took one look and tossed the box in the trash.

Sarah froze. “Mark! What was that about? Don’t you want a baby? We’re going to have one! These are matching Rolexes, a family set. I had to pull some strings to get them.”

I saw right through her innocent act. “Pull strings with Ethan, you mean?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t know much about watches, so I asked his opinion. He said they were the latest thing, impossible to find here. What’s the big deal?”

“No big deal. You and him…no big deal at all. Keep them. Wear them with your new family.”

“Mark! Don’t be ridiculous. Are you seriously throwing a tantrum? Over this? You want a divorce?”

"Yes."

Her face hardened. “Mark, I told you before we got married, Ethan is like a brother to me. My parents practically raised him, and they made me promise to look after him. When did you get so petty? Are you even a man?”

I almost laughed. "You're unbelievable. I'm tired. We're sleeping separately. You take the guest room."

I didn't need to look back to know she'd retrieve the watches from the trash and treat them like sacred relics. Perfect for their little family.

Lying awake in the guest room, I kept thinking about the summer we met…