My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs - Chapter 12: Chapter 12
You are reading My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs, Chapter 12: Chapter 12. Read more chapters of My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs.
Sandra took one look at my calm face, quickly wiped her tears away, and clung to my arm. "Regan, I know I hurt you," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "But it's okay—we have our whole lives ahead of us. I'll make it up to you. I'll give you all my company shares."
Her grip tightened as she continued, desperation creeping into her tone. "You always talked about wanting to see the snowy mountains, right? Let's go—Swiss Alps, Megha Mountain, anywhere you want. We'll watch the snow fall together."
She swallowed hard before adding, "I've already stepped down from the company. From now on, I'll follow you wherever you want to go. And if you want kids… we can have one. Just say the word."
She kept repeating herself, her eyes searching mine like I was her last hope.
I stayed silent for a beat, then pulled out my phone and made a call. A few minutes later, a little girl with bouncing pigtails skipped into the room, clutching a tiny pastry in her hands.
She beamed as she ran up to me, stretching her arms out. "Papa Regan! Uncle Leon gave me this, but I saved it for you!"
I chuckled, taking a bite before ruffling her hair.
Sandra's face went pale. "Who—who is she?" she stammered, her voice cracking. "Since when do you have a child?"
A cold laugh escaped me. Did she really think everyone was as cruel and selfish as her?
"This is Joy. My daughter."
Back when I first arrived in this town, some buddies and I went out for barbecue. That's when I spotted her—a tiny thing in rags, huddled in the shadows, watching us with a mix of hunger and fear.
I grabbed two skewers of lamb and waved her over. She hesitated, then snatched them from my hand and bolted.
But she came back. Same corner, same wary eyes.
I asked the restaurant owner's wife to make her a bowl of chicken soup. She wolfed it down like she hadn't eaten in days.
That's when I learned the truth. Around here, too many girls get thrown away like trash.
So I took her in. Gave her a name. A home. In just a month, that scrawny, hollow-eyed kid had filled out, her laughter ringing through the construction site.
The guys all said she was lucky to have me. But the truth? I was the lucky one. In my darkest hour, she was the light I didn't know I needed.
"Sandra," I said, my voice steady, "I've moved on. I won't spend the rest of my life groveling for scraps of your affection. You should go."
Her breath hitched. "No! Regan, listen—I'll tell everyone it was my fault! I'll say I was the one who didn't want kids!" Her voice turned frantic. "If you just forgive me, we can start trying as soon as we get back!"
I did want kids. A year ago—hell, even a month ago—those words would've shattered me. But she'd never said them before.
Because she already had a child.
And that's why she'd refused to have one with me.
Her grip tightened as she continued, desperation creeping into her tone. "You always talked about wanting to see the snowy mountains, right? Let's go—Swiss Alps, Megha Mountain, anywhere you want. We'll watch the snow fall together."
She swallowed hard before adding, "I've already stepped down from the company. From now on, I'll follow you wherever you want to go. And if you want kids… we can have one. Just say the word."
She kept repeating herself, her eyes searching mine like I was her last hope.
I stayed silent for a beat, then pulled out my phone and made a call. A few minutes later, a little girl with bouncing pigtails skipped into the room, clutching a tiny pastry in her hands.
She beamed as she ran up to me, stretching her arms out. "Papa Regan! Uncle Leon gave me this, but I saved it for you!"
I chuckled, taking a bite before ruffling her hair.
Sandra's face went pale. "Who—who is she?" she stammered, her voice cracking. "Since when do you have a child?"
A cold laugh escaped me. Did she really think everyone was as cruel and selfish as her?
"This is Joy. My daughter."
Back when I first arrived in this town, some buddies and I went out for barbecue. That's when I spotted her—a tiny thing in rags, huddled in the shadows, watching us with a mix of hunger and fear.
I grabbed two skewers of lamb and waved her over. She hesitated, then snatched them from my hand and bolted.
But she came back. Same corner, same wary eyes.
I asked the restaurant owner's wife to make her a bowl of chicken soup. She wolfed it down like she hadn't eaten in days.
That's when I learned the truth. Around here, too many girls get thrown away like trash.
So I took her in. Gave her a name. A home. In just a month, that scrawny, hollow-eyed kid had filled out, her laughter ringing through the construction site.
The guys all said she was lucky to have me. But the truth? I was the lucky one. In my darkest hour, she was the light I didn't know I needed.
"Sandra," I said, my voice steady, "I've moved on. I won't spend the rest of my life groveling for scraps of your affection. You should go."
Her breath hitched. "No! Regan, listen—I'll tell everyone it was my fault! I'll say I was the one who didn't want kids!" Her voice turned frantic. "If you just forgive me, we can start trying as soon as we get back!"
I did want kids. A year ago—hell, even a month ago—those words would've shattered me. But she'd never said them before.
Because she already had a child.
And that's why she'd refused to have one with me.
End of My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs Chapter 12. Continue reading Chapter 13 or return to My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs book page.