My Husband's Secret Son Needs My Baby to Live - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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Twenty years after my husband's vasectomy—back when we'd committed to being childfree—I somehow ended up pregnant.
At first, I thought it was a miracle.
Then I discovered the truth: my husband had another family.
His secret son was dying of leukemia, desperate for a bone marrow match—and suddenly, I was his best hope.
The shock sent me collapsing to the floor. When I woke up in the hospital, I demanded an abortion.
Marlon Townsend, my husband of two decades, refused. He had me restrained to the bed.
My mother-in-law and the doctor ganged up on me. "Saving a life is more virtuous than building a temple," they said. "That boy is as much your son as Marlon's. How can you be so cold?"
"Besides," my mother-in-law added, "you refused to give him children for years. And now that you're finally pregnant, you insist the baby takes your name? He had no choice!"
I stopped struggling. Marlon's eyes were wet with tears, but I just laughed bitterly. "Why don't you and Melanie make another baby to save your son? I'll even pay for the treatments."
His face twisted in something like pain—but not guilt. "We tried," he admitted. "Melanie lost too many pregnancies trying to give me a son. She can't carry another."
"Half-siblings have a 25% match rate," he pressed. "Margret, if you save him, I'll give you anything."
I turned away, my heart frozen. "I want a divorce. I'll be discharged in a week. Meet me in court."
My mother-in-law nearly exploded, her face purpling with rage. She lunged at me, but Marlon pulled her back.
"No," he said firmly. "I won't divorce you. Don't even think about it."
I met his gaze, my smile sharp as glass. He knew me well enough to see I meant it.
With a sigh, he softened his tone. "Margret, we've spent half our lives together. A divorce now would be humiliating."
"I know you're hurt," he continued, "but Melanie isn't like you. She didn't have your education, your privilege. She suffered just to give me a son. If anyone's to blame, it's me."
"That child is innocent," he whispered. "Punishing him like this… isn't that cruel?"
My breath hitched. My hand drifted to my stomach as memories surfaced—
Marlon, years ago, a brilliant but broke student my father sponsored.
Marlon, kneeling in the rain, begging for a chance to prove himself.
Marlon, the ambitious, relentless man I fell for—the man who climbed from nothing to everything, thanks to me.
And now, this.
I closed my eyes. How far we've fallen.
At first, I thought it was a miracle.
Then I discovered the truth: my husband had another family.
His secret son was dying of leukemia, desperate for a bone marrow match—and suddenly, I was his best hope.
The shock sent me collapsing to the floor. When I woke up in the hospital, I demanded an abortion.
Marlon Townsend, my husband of two decades, refused. He had me restrained to the bed.
My mother-in-law and the doctor ganged up on me. "Saving a life is more virtuous than building a temple," they said. "That boy is as much your son as Marlon's. How can you be so cold?"
"Besides," my mother-in-law added, "you refused to give him children for years. And now that you're finally pregnant, you insist the baby takes your name? He had no choice!"
I stopped struggling. Marlon's eyes were wet with tears, but I just laughed bitterly. "Why don't you and Melanie make another baby to save your son? I'll even pay for the treatments."
His face twisted in something like pain—but not guilt. "We tried," he admitted. "Melanie lost too many pregnancies trying to give me a son. She can't carry another."
"Half-siblings have a 25% match rate," he pressed. "Margret, if you save him, I'll give you anything."
I turned away, my heart frozen. "I want a divorce. I'll be discharged in a week. Meet me in court."
My mother-in-law nearly exploded, her face purpling with rage. She lunged at me, but Marlon pulled her back.
"No," he said firmly. "I won't divorce you. Don't even think about it."
I met his gaze, my smile sharp as glass. He knew me well enough to see I meant it.
With a sigh, he softened his tone. "Margret, we've spent half our lives together. A divorce now would be humiliating."
"I know you're hurt," he continued, "but Melanie isn't like you. She didn't have your education, your privilege. She suffered just to give me a son. If anyone's to blame, it's me."
"That child is innocent," he whispered. "Punishing him like this… isn't that cruel?"
My breath hitched. My hand drifted to my stomach as memories surfaced—
Marlon, years ago, a brilliant but broke student my father sponsored.
Marlon, kneeling in the rain, begging for a chance to prove himself.
Marlon, the ambitious, relentless man I fell for—the man who climbed from nothing to everything, thanks to me.
And now, this.
I closed my eyes. How far we've fallen.
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