When Your Secret Child Showed Up

When Amy came storming into my life, I was in the middle of rocking my baby to sleep.
She was pregnant, her belly round and full, and she was demanding that I divorce my husband, Jason.
Truth be told, I already knew about Jasons affair. I just hadnt made a scene.
I let her in, gently placed my sleeping baby in her bassinet, and poured Amy a glass of water. Then, I called Jason. "You need to come home. We're talking about a divorce."
Jasons voice was laced with irritation. "Jenna, how many times do I have to tell you? Im not getting a divorce."
"Your other child is standing in our living room. Should I throw her out?"
1.
Jason got home fast. Hed been out getting me crab rangoon from my favorite place, a forty-minute round trip he made in twenty.
He walked in empty-handed, his eyes darting between Amy and me. We were both on the sofa. I was calm; she was a sobbing mess. I promise you, I hadn't laid a hand on her.
Jason rushed in, breathless, and scowled at Amy. "What are you doing here? I thought you were getting rid of it."
She flinched, wiping at her tear-streaked face. "I'm six months along. It's too late."
"I told you to take care of it weeks ago. Why didn't you listen to me?" Jason collapsed onto the sofa next to her, a wave of defeated resignation washing over him. "So, what now?" he asked, his voice flat.
Amys voice rose in a wail. "Youre the father! If you don't know what to do, what am I supposed to do? My dad already kicked me out for getting pregnant out of wedlock. You have to make an honest woman of me! How is our child supposed to go to school without a father?"
Silence fell between them. Amys sobs softened into whimpers. I thoughtfully passed her a box of tissues.
Looking at Jason, slumped and pathetic, a bitter sting filled my eyes, but then, a strange, hollow laugh escaped my lips. The man I had once loved so deeply had become selfish, irresponsible, a stranger.
I took a deep, steadying breath, forcing my voice to remain even. "Jason, let's get a divorce."
I looked at Amy. She was hunched over slightly, but her face was still full of youthful collagen, her skin smooth and perfect, without a single line around her eyes. Wed talked before Jason arrived. She was only twenty-two, in the prime of her life. She hadnt had much education. Her family was traditional, favoring sons over daughters. Her older sister supported their parents and younger brother, and Amy had become the familys cash cow.
She worked as a hostess at a bar, pushing expensive liquor. Getting groped by customers was just part of the job. She told me about one night, a customer had her pinned, his greasy face buried in her chest, one hand kneading her backside while he tried to force a kiss on her. She struggled, but he only tightened his grip, his voice a slimy threat. "You don't play along, I don't buy the drinks."
Her income was based on commission. The sale was hugeenough to pay for her little brothers private school tuition for a year. At his words, she went still, helpless tears streaming down her face.
Thats when Jason appeared.
He grabbed the mans hand, landed a solid punch, and bought all the liquor himself. He told Amy she should find a respectable job, but by then, she had already set her sights on him.
Telling the story, Amy couldnt stop the tears, her eyes overflowing with a love that was almost painful to watch.
"My knight in shining armor," she whispered. "I always knew he would come for me."
She pursued him relentlessly, wearing him down until she finally ended up in his bed, and then, with his child in her belly. She said her baby deserved a complete family.
So she was here, begging me to give Jason to her.
Pathetic, and yet, detestable.
2.
Jason and I stared at each other for a long time. My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I could see the glint of moisture in his, too.
A lifetime of history. You don't just throw that away.
After a moment, Jason turned to Amy. "This is my fault. I'll pay for the child's support, but I can't get a divorce."
"Why not?" Amy shrieked, her eyes wide. "What's stopping you? Is she younger than me? Prettier than me?" Each question was a blunt knife, carving into my heart. "Theyre both your children! Doesn't my baby deserve a father? Are you going to let him end up like me, with no future, bled dry by his family? Your other baby is from IVF! Is she even as healthy as mine? Weren't you the one in bed telling me you wanted a real child of your own? Are you taking it all back now?"
CRACK.
Jasons hand moved so fast I barely saw it. A livid red handprint bloomed on Amys cheek.
He was shaking with rage, his chest heaving. "What the hell are you talking about!"
Amy cradled her face, her sobs growing louder.
A thousand tiny needles of pain pricked at my skin, converging on my heart. He had even told her about the IVF.
This baby had been so hard-won. I was thirty-five, a high-risk pregnancy. It took two rounds of IVF to finally be successful. The physical pain, the mental anguish and now this. I had wanted my baby to come into a world filled with love and anticipation, not to have her father casually dismiss her as an "IVF baby" to his mistress.
A sharp, piercing pain lanced through my chest.
Jason started to move toward me, but Amy clung to him, weeping. He couldn't push a pregnant woman away, so he was trapped beside her.
I forced myself to take several deep breaths until my heart rate began to steady.
"You need to move out," I said, my voice trembling. "I'll have a lawyer draft the divorce papers. I'll see you at the courthouse." I glanced at Amy's swollen belly, a lump forming in my throat. "We'll split the assets as the law dictates. And since you don't want this child," I gestured to my own, still-flat stomach, "she will stay with me. You can just send the child support checks."
"Now get out," I said, my voice cracking. "I don't want either of you in my home."
I made a shooing gesture and turned my head away, unable to look at them any longer. Jason gave me one last worried glance before Amy practically shoved him out the door.
"Thank you so much," Amy said as she left, a simpering, yet genuinely grateful smile on her face. "You're a really good person."
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The moment the door clicked shut, the tears I had been holding back finally fell.
3.
I hated Amy. She had destroyed my life.
I hated Jason. He had shattered it with his own hands.
I was still recovering from childbirth, and this was the chaos he brought to my door. The neighbors would talk. I would become a joke, and one day, so would my child.
I truly hated him. He had forced me into this humiliating divorce, turning my marriage into a colossal failure.
4.
The maternity nurse Id hired was supposed to arrive today, but its been three days. I called the agency, urging them to find someone. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Ross," the agent replied. "Experienced maternity nurses are in high demand right now. We don't have anyone who meets your requirements."
"I'll pay more," I sobbed, my face buried in my hands.
5.
An extra two thousand dollars did the trick. A new nurse arrived quickly. Her name was Mrs. Rosa.
Mrs. Rosa moved in, and she was a godsend. She soothed my frayed nerves, prepared the babys bottles, and rocked her to sleep through the night. I knew how hard she was working, but I was in no state to help.
Jason came by once. He said I was in no condition to be alone, that he wanted to take care of me. I threw him out. He called, but I didn't answer. He texted, and I blocked his number.
The day the divorce papers were ready, I unblocked him.
He brought his lawyer. We signed everything quickly, with almost no disagreement over the assets. We were both reasonable people; what was fair was fair. He had some basic decency left, even if the years had allowed some rotten part of him to fester and grow.
Looking at him, I noticed that in just one week, streaks of gray had appeared in his hair. There were dark circles under his eyes, and a rough stubble covered his jaw. I used to hate the scratchy feeling of his beard against my cheek, so he had always been meticulous about shaving, about his appearance. He was a man who took pride in being clean and put-together.
"The dividends from my company shares I'll set a portion aside for Joy when she turns eighteen. You won't have to worry about her future," he said, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Jenna, Im so sorry."
"Theres nothing to be sorry for. This is just how people are." I blinked back tears, my voice thick. "Greedy. So damn greedy. When you have no money, you want money. When you have no love, you want love. When life is calm, you crave excitement, and when its exciting, you long for peace."
Jasons voice broke. "I'm sorry. I destroyed our family. If you and Joy ever need anything, you can always call me."
I tilted my head back, wiping a tear from my cheek. "No, we won't. I'll raise her myself. And I'll tell her that her father is dead."
Jason left. His back, once so straight and strong, was now stooped, carrying the weight of a man worn down by life.
In one week, a family had been shattered.
But at least I still had my baby. She was a girl. I named her Joy.
Joy, because I wanted her to be happy. Joy, because it sounded like "January," the start of a new year, a new beginning. I wanted her to know that no matter what setbacks she faced, she could always start over. And Joy, because it held the echo of a full moon, a symbol of completeness and reunion. I wanted her life to be whole, without the regrets that haunted mine.
Everything I never had, everything I yearned for, my baby would have it all.
6.
Jason didn't bother me again, but his parents heard what happened. They flew across the country to see me.
My mother-in-law, Carol, was a kind woman. When I opened the door, she just stood there, and before a word was spoken, tears were streaming down her face. She took my hands in hers, her voice choked with emotion. "You're so thin, Jenna. How did you get so thin?"
I held her cool hands and shook my head. "I don't know." In one week, I had lost fifteen pounds. Mrs. Rosa was a wonderful cook, and I was eating, but the weight just melted away. All those years of trying to diet, and this is what it took.
"It's all Jason's fault. Our family has failed you. If you need anything, anything at all, you just have to ask," she said. "I'm not strong enough to help with the baby myself now." Her voice broke as she mentioned my own mother. "If your mom were still here, she never would have let you suffer like this. When she passed, I promised her I would take care of you, and now look what's happened. When I see her on the other side, she's going to blame me for not looking after you properly. I've failed her, and I've failed you."
As Carol cried, my father-in-law, usually so stoic, wiped at his own eyes.
I hugged her, forcing back my own tears. "Mom, please don't say that. It's not your fault. My mom would never blame you. You've taken care of me for so many years. It's more than enough. It really is."
Carol and my mom had been best friends, which is why they bought houses next to each other. My mom had made a bad choice in a husband, divorcing young and raising me alone. Carol was always there for her. When my mom died of cancer while I was in high school, she entrusted me to Carol. She kept the news from me so I could focus on my college entrance exams. I'll forever regret not being there to see her one last time.
Carol held me tight, letting my tears soak her shoulder. "Jenna," she whispered, "from now on, I am your mother. You are my daughter. You treat me like your own mom."
And she meant it. In college, my allowance from her was always a hundred dollars more than Jason's. She'd buy me beautiful clothes and get him the cheaper stuff. Whenever I came home for break, the table was always filled with my favorite foods. I hated onions, so she never put them in any dish, or if she did, she'd have Jason pick them out for me. I often thought to myself that my mom had terrible taste in men, but impeccable taste in friends.
Carol wanted to stay and help with the baby, saying it was too much for me alone. I refused. They were getting older, and the flight had exhausted them. The gesture was enough.
She was overjoyed when she saw Joy, saying the baby looked just like me as a childbig eyes, a high nose. A little beauty who would steal hearts one day. She stayed for a few days and helped with the baby, which gave Mrs. Rosa a bit of a break. But the baby was fussy at night, and the dark circles under Carol's eyes were impossible to hide.
After just a couple of days, she and my father-in-law had to leave. Before she left, she hesitated, a troubled look on her face.
I saw it. "Mom, just say it."
She spoke with difficulty. "What Jason did was wrong. But the baby the baby is innocent. He needs a birth certificate, a legal identity. After you get the divorce decree, I want to make sure the baby is registered."
I understood. She supported Jason marrying Amy.
I smiled. "Mom, it's fine. It's not a big deal. I won't say anything."
Her eyes filled with tears again. She squeezed my hand. "Such a good girl, such a good girl."
As she was leaving, she pressed a bank card into my hand. "A gift for Joy. The PIN is her birthday."
I had no choice but to accept it. I watched them step into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, I tilted my head back, a sob catching in my throat.
No matter how kind Carol was, no matter how close she was to my mom, no matter how much she cared for me, she wasn't my mother.
If my own mom were here, she would never have let me be wronged like this. She would have stood firmly on my side. She would never have said that an innocent child was involved.
But my mother was gone. And I missed her so much.
7.
The day Jason and I agreed to meet at the courthouse arrived quickly. I found our marriage certificate, still pristine in the folder where Id kept it safe.
He picked me up, parking downstairs. As I got into the passenger seat, I noticed a collection of little trinkets dangling from the rearview mirror. Seeing me stare at them, a flash of embarrassment crossed Jason's face. "Amy put them there. She's pregnant. She throws a fit if I take them down."
I gave a small, humorless laugh. "My mistake. I should have sat in the back." I had opened the passenger door out of habit, without thinking.
We drove in silence. When he asked a question, I gave a vague, noncommittal answer. At a red light, pedestrians streamed across the crosswalk.
Jason suddenly spoke. "Remember in school? We were always catching this red light, counting down the seconds before we had to sprint across."
"Only old people reminisce about the past," I said, my words sharp, offering him no comfort.
He didn't get angry. He even chuckled in agreement. "You're right. We are getting old."
I snorted softly and turned to stare out the window, ignoring him. A month, maybe more, had passed. I had accepted the fact that he cheated. But that didn't mean I had no feelings left for him. It also didn't mean I was going to let those feelings get in the way of what had to be done.
8.
There was a line at the divorce office. When it was our turn, the clerk asked, "Are you sure you want to divorce? Have all assets been divided?"
My voice was firm. "Yes, we're sure."
Jason glanced at me, then mumbled, "Yeah."
The moment the official stamp came down, a cold, hollow space opened up in my chest, and a bitter wind howled through it.
How long had we been married? I did the math. Fourteen years. I was only twenty-one when I graduated from college, and he was twenty-three. We hadn't even bought a house yet, but we couldn't wait to get married. The day we got the certificate, he excitedly bought a beautiful folder to keep it in. We went out for hot pot, and he took dozens of photos of me, which I immediately posted online. That night, he held me close, his voice full of contentment. "Jenna, I finally married you. I can't believe it. It feels like a dream."
I teased him for being so dramatic, but my own heart was pounding in my chest.
After graduation, I chose to stay in the big city. We worked here, rented an apartment together. Two years later, our careers had stabilized. Carol gave us the down payment for a small, two-bedroom apartment in the city center, and Jason and I made the monthly mortgage payments. It was our own place. Even though it was a secondhand apartment, I poured all my love into it. I picked out the curtains, and he fixed the light fixtures. I grew flowers, and he kept a little turtle and some fish. We both worked hard to make that little place a home.
Jason even threw me a grand, beautiful wedding to make up for eloping. I knew he was doing everything he could to give me the best.
A high school friend complained playfully, "I asked you if he was the guy you liked back then, and you lied and said he was just like a brother to you. Now look at you, all married."
Jason used to visit me at my high school all the time during his college breaks, so many of my classmates knew him. I had a crush on him even then, but I believed my studies were more important. I told everyone he was my "brother," and he never minded. He knew how I felt. And he knew, just as I did, that we would end up together.
And in that old apartment, we conceived our first child.

First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "326337" to read the entire book.