My Husband's Mistress is Our Son's Teacher - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
You are reading My Husband's Mistress is Our Son's Teacher, Chapter 1: Chapter 1. Read more chapters of My Husband's Mistress is Our Son's Teacher.
                    I slept with my husband's best friend, Ethan Carter, after discovering Ryan's affair.
Do I regret it? Hell no. If anything, I should've done it years sooner.
Pinning Ethan against the wall, I nipped at his jawline and whispered, "Pathetic. You can't even chase the woman you want."
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "You're my best friend's wife."
"Wife?" I scoffed, yanking his tie. "Cut the crap, Ethan. We both know the truth."
I'm Nicole Shaw.
From the outside, my life looks perfect—the envy of every suburban mom. I married Ryan Harris right as his startup took off, trading my career for yoga classes, spa days, and gossip-filled tea parties while nannies handled the dirty work.
The dream life? Hardly.
I've known about Ryan's affairs for years.
At 38, he's in his prime—rich, fit, and drowning in attention from women half my age. Men are simple: no matter how good you look at 35, they'll always crave something newer.
When I first found out, I considered divorce. Screaming matches. Lawyers. The whole mess.
But I stayed.
For James. My sweet, oblivious ten-year-old who still thinks his dad hangs the moon. Could I rip that away from him? As a stay-at-home mom, would I even win custody? And if I did—what kind of life could I give him without Ryan's money?
"Mom, can I get the new LEGO set?" James asked one afternoon, grinning up at me.
That smile sealed it. I'd endure anything for him.
People judge women who stay with cheaters—until it happens to them. Divorce? Please. Ryan would bury me in legal debt before letting me walk away with a dime. He controls every penny, and I've seen enough to know he'd do it without blinking.
Love makes you feel. Marriage teaches you to calculate.
I built this life beside Ryan. Why should some gold-digging mistress get to take it?
I spent a full day locked in the bathroom sobbing. Then I washed my face, reapplied my mascara, and stepped out like nothing happened.
That's when Ethan showed up with a box of crabs.
"Ryan's stuck at a business dinner," he lied awkwardly, avoiding my eyes.
I laughed. "Come on, Ethan. You're terrible at this."
We've known each other since college—Ryan and Ethan were the golden boys who built a empire together. Now Ethan's stuck between loyalty to his best friend and pity for me.
"It's fine," I said, glancing at James doing homework. "I'm not leaving him."
"Nicole, I'm sorry," he muttered, pushing up his glasses.
"Don't be." I smiled. "Actually, I should thank you."
His head snapped up.
Because it was true—without Ethan's guilty glances and clumsy hints, I might've stayed in the dark longer.
Holding out my hand, I gave him a knowing look.
"Our little secret?"
After a pause, he shook my hand—quick, tense, and gone in a second.
But not before I felt his pulse jump under my fingers.
                
            
        Do I regret it? Hell no. If anything, I should've done it years sooner.
Pinning Ethan against the wall, I nipped at his jawline and whispered, "Pathetic. You can't even chase the woman you want."
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "You're my best friend's wife."
"Wife?" I scoffed, yanking his tie. "Cut the crap, Ethan. We both know the truth."
I'm Nicole Shaw.
From the outside, my life looks perfect—the envy of every suburban mom. I married Ryan Harris right as his startup took off, trading my career for yoga classes, spa days, and gossip-filled tea parties while nannies handled the dirty work.
The dream life? Hardly.
I've known about Ryan's affairs for years.
At 38, he's in his prime—rich, fit, and drowning in attention from women half my age. Men are simple: no matter how good you look at 35, they'll always crave something newer.
When I first found out, I considered divorce. Screaming matches. Lawyers. The whole mess.
But I stayed.
For James. My sweet, oblivious ten-year-old who still thinks his dad hangs the moon. Could I rip that away from him? As a stay-at-home mom, would I even win custody? And if I did—what kind of life could I give him without Ryan's money?
"Mom, can I get the new LEGO set?" James asked one afternoon, grinning up at me.
That smile sealed it. I'd endure anything for him.
People judge women who stay with cheaters—until it happens to them. Divorce? Please. Ryan would bury me in legal debt before letting me walk away with a dime. He controls every penny, and I've seen enough to know he'd do it without blinking.
Love makes you feel. Marriage teaches you to calculate.
I built this life beside Ryan. Why should some gold-digging mistress get to take it?
I spent a full day locked in the bathroom sobbing. Then I washed my face, reapplied my mascara, and stepped out like nothing happened.
That's when Ethan showed up with a box of crabs.
"Ryan's stuck at a business dinner," he lied awkwardly, avoiding my eyes.
I laughed. "Come on, Ethan. You're terrible at this."
We've known each other since college—Ryan and Ethan were the golden boys who built a empire together. Now Ethan's stuck between loyalty to his best friend and pity for me.
"It's fine," I said, glancing at James doing homework. "I'm not leaving him."
"Nicole, I'm sorry," he muttered, pushing up his glasses.
"Don't be." I smiled. "Actually, I should thank you."
His head snapped up.
Because it was true—without Ethan's guilty glances and clumsy hints, I might've stayed in the dark longer.
Holding out my hand, I gave him a knowing look.
"Our little secret?"
After a pause, he shook my hand—quick, tense, and gone in a second.
But not before I felt his pulse jump under my fingers.
End of My Husband's Mistress is Our Son's Teacher Chapter 1. Continue reading Chapter 2 or return to My Husband's Mistress is Our Son's Teacher book page.