Married to My Bestie's Husband

My best friend passed away from postpartum hemorrhage.

Ethan said he didn't want his child to grow up without a mother.

To repay my best friend for saving my life years ago, I became the child's mother.

I gave up my career and ambitions, willingly becoming a full-time housewife. For seven years, I cared for both father and son as if it were my life's mission.

Yet, he always remained distant, his tenderness surfacing only in the quiet intensity of late nights.

Afterward, he would hand me a few birth control pills.

On New Year's Eve, my throat felt strange. I swallowed the pills, only to immediately vomit them all out.

Ethan was furious and accused me of harboring ulterior motives.

As punishment, he locked me outside on the open balcony in the rain.

Our son came running with an umbrella in hand.

But he walked past me without a glance and handed it to the housekeeper who was heading out.

In that moment, I made up my mind—I would leave.

The first morning of the New Year.

Fighting the exhaustion of a high fever, I handed Ethan the divorce papers.

He frowned, displeased, and asked, "Is this because of last night's punishment?"

"Victoria, if you didn't overstep your boundaries, I wouldn't have punished you. You should learn to reflect on yourself," he said.

I suppressed the urge to defend myself. My voice was hoarse, but steady. "Just sign it."

"What about our son?"

"He was never my biological child. Of course, I won't fight for custody." I paused, then added, "And don't worry, I won't ask for any share of your assets. Consider that my contribution to his upbringing."

Ethan glanced up, slightly surprised. It was no wonder—after all, I'd always valued that child above everything else.

With a cold expression, he warned, "I advise you to stop this nonsense. If you keep pushing, there'll be no turning back."

He thought I was throwing a tantrum.

But what he didn't realize was that from the moment I decided on divorce, I had no intention of looking back.

Without further explanation, I took the signed papers and returned to my room.

As I packed my things, he stood at the door and said, "The formalities will take some time. There's no need to rush out right now."

I replied calmly, using the words he had once thrown at me, "No, it's better to cut cleanly and move on."

He said nothing more.

There was a lot to pack, but I only took what was necessary.

When I dragged my suitcase into the living room, Jack Maine was sitting on the couch reading a science journal.

At such a young age, he was already extremely disciplined, just like his father. And, like his father, he treated me with cold indifference.

Setting the book aside, he walked over, his expression impatient. "Are you really divorcing Dad?"

I nodded.

Though his face remained emotionless, I caught a flicker of delight in his eyes.