The Consultant’s Postpartum Trap - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
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My husband ran his fingers through my best friend's hair, his voice thick with frustration. "It's been weeks, and I still don't have any proof of her cheating. The cameras are gone—this is only going to get harder."
"Relax," she murmured, unfazed. "Ethan took my money. He'll deliver. We just need to be patient."
So that was their game.
A cold realization slithered down my spine. Ethan had been their pawn all along—planted to bait me into slipping up.
No wonder my husband kept nudging me toward Ethan, pretending it was about my "engorgement." The whole thing had been a setup.
At least I hadn't taken the bait.
But why hadn't Ethan pushed further? If he had, I wouldn't have stood a chance.
The thought didn't soften me. Whatever his reasons, I refused to be their fool.
I wasted no time. After gathering the evidence, I marched straight to a lawyer and filed for divorce.
Ethan tried reaching out, but I ignored him—then blocked him entirely.
When I confronted my husband with the papers, he crumpled. Dropping to his knees, he begged, "Please, baby, I messed up! I swear it'll never happen again! She—your best friend—she seduced me! I'll cut her off! We have a child together—just give me one more chance!"
I stayed silent.
Then, like a storm, my best friend burst in and slapped him hard across the face. "Oh, so now it's my fault?" she sneered. "Who said he didn't love you anymore? Who begged me to help trap you? Now that you're caught, you're throwing me under the bus? Disgusting."
She unleashed every ounce of fury, her words sharp as knives.
My husband wasn't about to take it. "You came onto me!" he shot back. "None of this would've happened if you hadn't!"
She rolled her eyes. "Can't keep it in your pants, so you blame me? Pathetic." With that, she turned on her heel and left.
My husband collapsed, shaking with rage and shame—too spineless to fight back.
I watched their meltdown without a word.
A mistake was a mistake. No takebacks.
He refused to sign, so I took the evidence to court. With undeniable proof of his affair, I won full custody and most of our assets.
This city had given me nothing but heartbreak. Once the trial ended, I booked a one-way ticket—somewhere new, just me, my child, and my mother.
But at the airport, just before boarding, I saw him.
Ethan.
Disheveled, unshaven, shadows under his eyes. Guilt radiated off him.
"You know everything now," he said quietly.
I didn't blink. "Should I thank you? If it weren't for you, I'd be the one begging today."
His face twisted. "Don't say that. This is on me."
I had no interest in dragging it out.
"We're even. Stay out of my life."
"Relax," she murmured, unfazed. "Ethan took my money. He'll deliver. We just need to be patient."
So that was their game.
A cold realization slithered down my spine. Ethan had been their pawn all along—planted to bait me into slipping up.
No wonder my husband kept nudging me toward Ethan, pretending it was about my "engorgement." The whole thing had been a setup.
At least I hadn't taken the bait.
But why hadn't Ethan pushed further? If he had, I wouldn't have stood a chance.
The thought didn't soften me. Whatever his reasons, I refused to be their fool.
I wasted no time. After gathering the evidence, I marched straight to a lawyer and filed for divorce.
Ethan tried reaching out, but I ignored him—then blocked him entirely.
When I confronted my husband with the papers, he crumpled. Dropping to his knees, he begged, "Please, baby, I messed up! I swear it'll never happen again! She—your best friend—she seduced me! I'll cut her off! We have a child together—just give me one more chance!"
I stayed silent.
Then, like a storm, my best friend burst in and slapped him hard across the face. "Oh, so now it's my fault?" she sneered. "Who said he didn't love you anymore? Who begged me to help trap you? Now that you're caught, you're throwing me under the bus? Disgusting."
She unleashed every ounce of fury, her words sharp as knives.
My husband wasn't about to take it. "You came onto me!" he shot back. "None of this would've happened if you hadn't!"
She rolled her eyes. "Can't keep it in your pants, so you blame me? Pathetic." With that, she turned on her heel and left.
My husband collapsed, shaking with rage and shame—too spineless to fight back.
I watched their meltdown without a word.
A mistake was a mistake. No takebacks.
He refused to sign, so I took the evidence to court. With undeniable proof of his affair, I won full custody and most of our assets.
This city had given me nothing but heartbreak. Once the trial ended, I booked a one-way ticket—somewhere new, just me, my child, and my mother.
But at the airport, just before boarding, I saw him.
Ethan.
Disheveled, unshaven, shadows under his eyes. Guilt radiated off him.
"You know everything now," he said quietly.
I didn't blink. "Should I thank you? If it weren't for you, I'd be the one begging today."
His face twisted. "Don't say that. This is on me."
I had no interest in dragging it out.
"We're even. Stay out of my life."
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