My Husband’s IVF Affair With His Secretary

During the eight months I was pregnant, Dominick and his secretary booked hotel rooms nearly two hundred times. Despite knowing the precious child growing inside me, I chose to ignore the situation entirely. However, the night before my due date, I inadvertently overheard Dominick whispering on the phone to his secretary in the stairwell:

"Relax. We used your eggs through IVF, so the baby won't inherit Bridget's health issues. Once the baby arrives safely, I'll think about divorcing her. Just give me a little more time, alright?"

After enduring this marriage for seven years, this revelation tore open old wounds, cutting deeper into the scars on my heart. Exhausted from years of arguing, I called my father directly:

"I've repaid the debt to Dominick's family. Now it's time for you to fulfill your promise."

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"Bridget, you're about to become a mother. If there's a problem with Dominick, talk it out. You’re both adults; why joke about such serious things?" My father dismissed my words as mere venting, believing I was just frustrated with Dominick.

"Okay, after the baby’s born, I'll definitely have a talk with Dominick. Tomorrow’s your due date, so don't let trivial things affect your health," he said with a chuckle, ready to end the call.

"Dominick cheated on me. He doesn't deserve to be my husband or the baby's father," I stated calmly. Moments later, my body started trembling uncontrollably. Despite the room’s warmth, a chill seemed to penetrate deep into my bones, piercing through to my core.

"Stop it. As your father, I know Dominick’s character. You’ve been overly suspicious since you got pregnant. The marriage, although arranged by me, was something you agreed to. I never forced you."

Listening to my father, I couldn't help but smile bitterly at my own naivety—to have believed Dominick’s promises of everlasting love.

Fifteen years ago, my father was rushed to the hospital due to his congenital heart condition. It was Dominick's father who tirelessly saved his life, even covering the large bill when we couldn’t afford the surgery. This kind-hearted doctor later died in a tragic car accident, leaving behind an eleven-year-old Dominick. To repay Mr. Hunter's kindness, my father adopted Dominick, treating him as his own son.

For over a decade, Dominick and I were inseparable. When my father built Hunter Enterprises from scratch, he even promised to leave the entire business to Dominick. I had no objections; after all, when Dominick was eighteen, he declared he would marry me once he graduated college. Naturally, my father was thrilled to agree, yet he promised me one thing: if Dominick ever wronged me, I could seek a divorce. I pretended to accept this lightly, quietly hoping such a promise would never need fulfilling.

Until the second year of our marriage, when I discovered Dominick’s first affair. He returned from a business trip with lipstick on his collar. We argued fiercely, but Dominick explained it away as carelessness, claiming he accidentally got the marks while helping a drunken