I Left My Kids After Made DNA Test & Found My Wife Cheated & All Of Them Aren't Mine. Audio Story

[Music] When I entered the bathroom, a glint on the carpet caught my eye: a reflection of sunlight slipping through the blinds. Curious, I glanced down, cautiously barefoot and wary of stepping on anything sharp. Caroline hadn't mentioned dropping anything here, but you never know.

The small foil circle lay almost camouflaged against the carpet's color until the light revealed it to me. Stooping, I picked it up: the backing from a pill strip, typically left behind when a pill is pushed out. Turning it over, I noticed markings on one side—two—which I assumed meant Tuesday since today was Wednesday.

It seemed to be yesterday's pill. I don't take any medications myself; I'm perfectly healthy at 35, as is my wife, Caroline. We both recently passed our annual physicals with flying colors, so why was there a pill backing in our bathroom?

Several daily pills came to mind, but the birth control pill stood out. I'd had a vasectomy two years ago after our second child, so I assumed Caroline wasn't on the pill anymore. She's never had issues with cramps or periods—lucky her.

So, why the pills? My mind briefly wandered to dark places, suspecting illness she hadn't mentioned, but then I remembered our clean bills of health from the exams we'd shared. If the foil was here, the pills were likely nearby.

Locking the door behind me, I began searching. Eventually, I found them tucked in a box of tampons beneath some aspirin. It was the same pill strip she'd used before my surgery, back when we weren't actively trying for children.

Why had she started taking them again? There was only one unsettling possibility: she was having physical engagement with someone who could get her pregnant. She had cheated on me.

Caroline and I were together for 9 years. I had just finished university and was studying to become an engineer while she worked as an assistant. We met at a bar, and though our connection wasn't immediate, she agreed to dinner.

Caroline, nearly as tall as my 5’7”, was a former athlete with a slender frame and small bosoms. Her most striking feature, in my opinion, was her incredible rear. We dated for a year before marrying when I was 26.

Our children, aged 5 and 2, led me to get surgery to ensure we wouldn't have more. It seemed like we had the perfect family, or so I thought. Caroline returned to work after each maternity leave, committed to her job despite the cost of child care.

I co-founded an engineering firm with friends, enjoying our work even if we weren't wealthy. After finding the pill foil in the bathroom, I put it back and resolved to think things through. Confronting her now wouldn't achieve anything; I needed a plan and evidence.

What would happen next was uncertain. I had to gather facts first. I went to work as usual, pondering my options: who was involved, when did it start, and for how long?

Was it someone from her job, maybe even her boss? Was this linked to her past communications? And the hardest question: were our children really mine?

Despite the emotions brewing inside me—loss, betrayal, pain, anger—I focused on gathering facts. I turned to the internet, ordering DNA testing kits to discreetly check our children's paternity. I also purchased surveillance equipment: small voice recorders for her car and bag, and tiny cameras for our home.

I doubted she was having an affair at home since she was rarely there without me—or so I believed. I needed to access her phone. I knew of a cloning tool that could copy her phone, capturing messages, emails, and calls.

This required buying another phone, which took days to arrive. During this time, I observed Caroline closely. She acted normally; our bed life was typical—once or twice a week.

I never noticed anything suspicious about her behavior or sudden showers upon returning home. Either she wasn't cheating, or she was incredibly discreet, possibly carrying on so long that it seemed routine. The packages arrived Friday morning at my office.

To avoid questions, I received DNA test kits, voice recorders, cameras, a new phone, and a cloning kit. Ready to proceed, I left work early. At home, the au pair was feeding the kids dinner.

I handled placing cameras discreetly—one each in the bathroom, living room, and bedroom for a clear view of our bed. After helping the kids with bedtime routines, I collected DNA samples from them and myself, mailing them promptly for testing. Caroline arrived home on schedule, and we went through our usual routine, exchanging updates on our days without much listening.

After dinner, she showered, giving me the chance to install voice recorders in her car and bag, and clone her phone. I checked the clone for incriminating messages or emails, but found none. Either she was cautious, or she hadn't cheated; I couldn't decide.

The weekend passed routinely with our usual morning closeness before the children woke up. We spent the weekend together without interruptions, making it likely she took the pills, as evidenced by the missing days on the strip. On Monday, I informed her I'd be working from home.

She headed to the office, giving me the chance to retrieve the flash drives from all the cameras and review them. The bathroom footage confirmed she had taken the pills. The bedroom camera revealed a surprise: on Saturday evening, while I cooked dinner, she showered in our bedroom, texting someone on a second phone not in her bag.

She hid it in the ventilation duct—despite checking, it wasn't there, indicating she takes it when she leaves. I needed access to that phone, the first solid evidence of her suspicious behavior. Reviewing the morning footage, I saw her retrieve the phone from the vent and place it in her bag before leaving for work.

That evening, after she returned and showered, her bag was phone-free. Knowing she likely hid it in the vent, I quietly retrieved it from Sonia's room, cloned it, and returned it—almost caught when she came out of the shower and found me near Sonia's bed, stroking her hair. She asked softly, "Did something happen?

" I shook my head. "Sometimes I like to sit with one of them," I whispered, "just to remind myself how fortunate I am to have such wonderful children. " She smiled.

"You're a sentimental old man," she teased. "Let’s go before you wake her. " The next day, I finally looked at the cloned phone.

That's when my world fell apart. Tears streamed down my face as I sat in my office chair, ignoring the intercom buzz. Eventually, my secretary, Michelle, knocked lightly and entered.

Michelle, always professional and dressed conservatively, looked older than her years with her slim frame, red hair, and green eyes. Our relationship had always been strictly business; I never gave her reason to think otherwise. She confided in me about another partner's persistent maltreatment, threatening legal action.

She said she stayed because I treated her with respect. Angry, he demanded her dismissal, giving us an ultimatum: her or him. I ended up with 60% ownership, losing a partner.

Michelle left briefly to handle her earlier task, returning to my office and locking the door. She brought me napkins and quietly asked, "Tell me. " I showed her the phone.

The texts between Caroline and an unnamed person revealed secret meetings and lovemaking details only a long-term lover would know—details about Caroline that excluded me completely. It was as if I didn't exist in her private world. "Do you know who?

" she asked, staying professional. I shook my head. "How do you know?

" she inquired. I recounted finding a silver bookmark on the bathroom floor and discovering the pills. The words flowed effortlessly throughout.

She sat silently, holding my hand—a first for us. "You need more information," she said. "We’ll have the children's DNA by Wednesday.

Can you wait until then? " "I don't know," I replied. She nodded.

"Our team in Portland needs you urgently," she said, booking a flight for me. "You'll return Thursday. " "I can't focus on that right now.

" "You tell Caroline," she said, taking my phone to send a message. Caroline quickly responded, confirming she understood and loved me. After handing back my phone, she pulled out hers.

"Lorraine," she said into it. "Michelle? Yes, thank you.

When are you free this afternoon? Great, see you then," she said briskly, directing me as she often did at work. It was almost a relief not to think, deferring decisions to someone else.

When I emerged from the bathroom, she held my jacket. "Where are we going? " I asked.

"You have an appointment with my friend," she replied. I followed along. Lorraine, Michelle's best friend and a divorce lawyer, was working on Michelle's own divorce, having discovered her husband's infidelity.

Within moments, Michelle explained my situation to Lorraine while I watched in a daze. This wasn't supposed to be my life. Lorraine, experienced in such matters, focused on gathering all the details.

"Gary! " she called out. "It wasn't me!

" I shouted. She was talking to someone else. I felt a sting on my cheek as Michelle slapped me.

Shock jolted me awake. I saw surprise and amusement flicker in Lorraine's eyes before she turned serious. "Gary," she asked.

I nodded. "Do you have a plan? " My engineer mind snapped into action at her words.

"Take them both down," I said. I expected a shocked reaction, but Michelle even grinned. "Okay," said Lorraine.

"I get it. However, that's not an option legally. Let’s explore some other avenues.

" She laid out the options without advocating for any: "First, do nothing. Keep playing ignorant for a peaceful life. Second, an amicable divorce citing irreconcilable differences.

Divide assets, pay child support. Third, go nuclear. Sue for infidelity, contest paternity, and more.

" My thoughts raced. Option one was out; I wouldn't be a complacent, betrayed man. Option two didn't fit; I'd invested too much in our life.

"Option three," I declared. "Nuclear. " Lorraine grinned.

"All right then. I'll start filling out the paperwork. I suggest you begin covertly surveilling your wife to gather more evidence.

Find out who, when, and where. We definitely need more proof. " "Can I keep this phone?

" I asked. "It's not doing you any good," she remarked. I nodded and handed over the phone.

Michelle and I left Lorraine's office, and she took me to a small family-run hotel, booking a room for me. "Go shower and order something for the room," she instructed, taking charge. "I'll return later with some items for you.

" I moved mechanically; my world was crumbling. Ordering room service in a hotel room was like I was on autopilot. It was the only way to manage the stress—nine years gone in a flash.

What hurt most was my obliviousness. How did I miss it all? Was it her boss—the one she always returned to after each child?

She claimed she valued her job and independence, but was it just an excuse to be near her lover? I eyed the mini bar, tempted, when Michelle entered. "Don't even think about it," she warned.

"You need a clear head to plan. Drwning your sorrows won't help. " "Plan?

" I asked bitterly. "I had a plan: a loving wife, two beautiful kids, and now this. I'm a betrayed man with uncertain paternity.

My life's in ruins, and you want me to plan? " She studied me briefly, then checked her watch. "All right," she said briskly.

"All business; pity party's over. Remember all those obstacles we faced starting our company? Plans fell apart then, too.

" "What does this have to do with numbers? " she pressed. "I don't know," I replied.

"A lot. There was a time when the patent office lost our application, and we still beat Headingly. Another time, the bank tried to foreclose on us early under pressure.

" "All right," she interrupted. "In all those times, when did you sit down and give up? It was different then.

" "Why? " she asked. "What was different back then?

" "I had something to fight for," I explained—a family depending on me. "Now you have a family," she pointed out, "a larger one—141 people and their families—relying on you to handle this. None of your partners can keep the company afloat like you can.

If she takes half, she could sell to the highest bidder, and Headingly could take everything. Is that what you want? " I stared at her, realizing she was right.

I couldn't let everything I'd worked for slip away. I needed to secure my family's future, even if my relationship with Caroline was uncertain. With renewed determination, I sat with Michelle and began planning.

Securing the company's future and my family's welfare became my priority. In that moment, clarity replaced confusion, and I felt resolute. Michelle noticed the change in my demeanor and nodded approvingly.

"That's the Gary I need right now," she said—"someone who plans for the future. " We spent the evening strategizing how to secure the company's future. Initially, I considered selling my shares to partners, but Michelle vetoed that, fearing they would mismanage or dismantle it once they gained control.

To maintain authority, we opted to establish an offshore trust, where I would sell the company at market value and remain as CEO on a nominal salary, shielded from local jurisdiction. This move made me a paper millionaire once executed. I also planned to liquidate my 401(k) and tap into home equity.

The house, bought solely in my name when Caroline wasn't working, required re-evaluation. I compiled tasks and contacted my lawyer, Brian Spencer, who handled the company's legal affairs, to arrange a meeting the next day. After Michelle departed, I fell into a deep sleep and woke to Caroline's message asking about my sudden departure.

I assured her of my return Thursday but withheld affection. Michelle arrived early the next morning, and after a shower, we had breakfast at a nearby diner. Despite my turmoil, I focused on practical steps forward.

Michelle informed me Brian had a meeting available at 10:00, suggesting we visit the bank first to access my 401(k) and home equity before meeting him. "I see the benefit of consolidating my finances," I said, "but won't there still be a record of my assets? Can't the court order me to split them with her?

" "Only if you still have them," Michelle grinned. "That's where Vegas comes in. After amassing your capital, spend a week there and blow through it all before filing for divorce.

That way, in court, you'll appear broke, deeply in debt. Your house could face foreclosure, and your income would barely cover living expenses—unless, of course, the children aren't yours. " "If they are, place your entire 401(k) in a trust for their college fund.

Caroline won't touch it. She might even end up paying you alimony. When will you get the DNA results?

" I hesitated, picking up my phone. The company said they should be online today. I checked the email with a link but set the phone down; I wasn't sure I was ready to see the results yet.

"Can I? " Michelle asked, and I handed her the phone. She scrolled through it, studying the screen.

I watched her face, hoping for a clue. She looked up. "Results aren't in yet," she said.

"They should arrive within 12 hours according to tracking. Let's go," she said, standing up. The bank should be open.

Releasing equity from the house and cashing out my 401(k) went quickly. I closed all our savings accounts, including the children's college funds, transferring the money to an account in my name. The joint account, with less than $10,000, remained untouched.

Our lawyer raised an important point when we briefed him on our plan. "You forgot one thing," he said. "You have a marriage contract.

" "I do? " I was surprised; I didn't realize that was part of the partnership agreement. "When I started, all partners were required to sign a prenup to protect the company in case of a split," he explained.

"It covers only company assets, not personal ones. As an employee, it can only claim your salary and 401(k)—that's it. What I suggest," he began, "without criticizing your divorce lawyer, is to invest all the freed-up equity from your house into the company—buy out one of your partners.

Robert seemed keen on making money. You may need a loan from the company pension fund to cover the difference. Repayments will come from your reduced salary, minimizing your assessed assets.

Since everything else ties back to the company, it remains protected. Your credit rating may suffer from foreclosure, and you'll lose half your remaining bank funds. Besides that, she won't receive anything.

We can adjust your salary to potentially make hers higher, making her liable for child support. " "How will I live? " I asked.

"If my whole salary goes to loan payments, I'll still need to cover living expenses—including my two other children, and possibly more. " "Let’s hold off on discussing the children," he advised. "Have you decided on a course of action?

If they're not yours, will you stay involved? " "I'm not sure," I admitted. "It's too overwhelming to think about.

I'll need to wait until I have the facts before making such decisions. " "Remember your plans with the other lawyers," he reminded me. "I bet the lawsuit against her company will bring in enough to pay off the loan and restore your full salary.

After all this, you can also claim expenses from the children's father if they're proven not to be yours post-divorce, separate from the settlement. " "Could you reach out to Robert for me about selling? " I requested.

"I don't think I can handle that right now. " He nodded. "I'll contact him and update you.

" We shook hands as we left his office. Relief washed over me momentarily as we walked out; the plans started to align, a satisfaction filling me. Then reality hit, reminding me why we were making these plans, leaving an emptiness in my chest.

We sat in a diner for lunch when I dared to check my phone again, clicking on the link in the email. I passed it to Michelle, watching her face for a reaction. "I'm so sorry, Gary," she said softly, handing the phone back.

I read the results myself; neither child was biologically mine, though they shared the same father. The shock of losing both children was eclipsed by rage at the betrayal: she not only deceived me about their paternity but also convinced me to have a vasectomy. “Gary,” Michelle snapped, pulling me back.

“Now's not the time. Stay calm; we'll get through this. ” Struggling to control my anger, I took deep breaths.

I wanted to hurt someone. Thoughts of revenge crossed my mind, even hiring someone to deal with the man who bedded the children I thought were mine. Michelle composed herself and led me out of the diner.

“Lorraine called; she wants to see you,” she said as we headed to Lorraine's office. Lorraine appeared solemn as we entered. “I have a preliminary report from a private investigator,” she said.

“Caroline had a visitor last night; a man stayed over at your house. ” “I have cameras at home,” I said. “I'll swap the flash drives and we can review the footage.

” “Good,” she nodded. “Do it now, then we'll strategize. This footage could be crucial.

The au pair is with Sophie and James at the play center. ” “I can't go back without arousing suspicion; I'm supposed to be away on business. ” Lorraine checked her phone.

“The au pair is occupied. I'll keep watch and alert you if she leaves. ” We sped to my house, about 30 minutes away.

I quickly swapped the flash drives, scanned the house, found nothing unusual, and returned to Lorraine's office. Reviewing the footage, I avoided watching the bedroom footage; I couldn't bear to see more. It confirmed my suspicions: her boss, Bill Wright, entering the house with his own key when James greeted him as "Papa Bill.

" I broke down in tears; I couldn't watch any longer. Lorraine witnessed my breakdown. Michelle, for the first time, hugged me as I cried.

After some time, I composed myself. “Would you like to rest? ” Lorraine asked, but I declined.

The pain eased slightly, replaced by building anger. “What's our next move? ” I inquired.

“I've obtained the terms of employment from your wife's company,” Lorraine explained. “There's an anti-fraternization clause, giving us grounds to sue for violation, especially since the person involved is a senior manager. ” We briefed Line on my company lawyer's advice, prompting her to call him immediately.

She received copies of the prenuptial agreement via email. “This changes everything,” she said, reviewing the documents. “Your partner's plan is spot on.

If he's willing to sell, we invest everything in the company to shield it. We can sue her company for non-compliance, him for emotional distress, her for misrepresentation on the birth certificate, and both for child-related expenses. It hinges on whether Robert wants to sell.

” I remarked, “We'll have to wait for his decision. ” Michelle drove me back to the hotel where I was staying. Just as I reached my room, there was a knock on the door.

It was Michelle. “Let’s go,” she urged. “You shouldn't stay here alone.

” “Why not? ” I asked. “Because you'll brood or hit the mini bar,” she replied firmly.

“I need to keep an eye on you. ” Gathering my things, she led me out to her car. “Where are we headed?

” I asked, feeling indifferent to my place. She said, “I have a spare room you can use. ” I started to protest, but her gaze silenced me.

I had never been to Michelle's home, surprised to find it nearly as large as mine, though single-story. She showed me to a room with a bathroom. “Take a shower and change,” she instructed.

“Dinner in 30 minutes. ” We ate quietly, the food seemingly delicious, though I couldn't taste it. My mind raced with thoughts, emotions too turbulent to grasp.

I was furious yet numb, focused only on executing my plans. I was on autopilot, driven by purpose. As I wondered what to do after dinner, the phone rang.

I flinched, hoping it wasn't Caroline. “It wasn't,” I said. “Hello,” I greeted languidly.

“Robert,” I said. “Why? ” he asked simply.

Robert and I had been friends since university, where we bonded over a project that laid the foundation for our business. Initially, I held the majority stake in the company due to greater initial investment. “Caroline is cheating on me,” I stated flatly.

“All this time? ” he exclaimed. “All this time,” I confirmed, “and none of the children are yours.

” There was a pause on the line. “So, you want to tie all your assets to the company and rely on the prenuptial agreement? ” he queried, clearly understanding our partnership agreement better than I did.

“I'll keep 5% and continue as a consulting engineer,” he proposed. “I'll sort it out with HR; the rest is yours. ” “Okay,” I agreed.

“I'll have Brian prepare the paperwork. ” “Gary,” he said after a moment, “I'm really sorry. It might not feel like it now, but it will get easier, I promise.

I've been where you are now, and it does get easier. ” Only then did I recall that he had gone through a divorce about four years ago. He had kept the details private, though we were close friends.

I knew it hadn't been pleasant; he had used the marriage contract himself. The next morning, Michelle woke me with a cup of coffee. “Let’s go,” she said.

“We still have a lot to do. ” First, we visited Brian Spencer, the company lawyer, who had already prepared all. .

. The necessary documents for buying out Robert were completed swiftly in under 30 minutes. I liquidated everything: my home equity, savings, and 401K.

I also secured a loan against the company pension plan for the remaining amount. On paper, I now owed nearly a million dollars; my salary was nearly half due to deductions. Next, we went to Lorraine's office.

She reviewed the documents for the buyout and was pleased. "This is perfect," she remarked. "I'll draft the papers today, and we can file them on Monday.

Where do you want her to be served? Somewhere that will embarrass her the most? " I replied, "If we could do it on a Super Bowl billboard, I'd pay for it gladly.

" Lorraine chuckled. "We’ll serve her at her office," she decided. "Monday morning at 10, provided the papers clear the court by then.

If I file today, we should have confirmation tomorrow afternoon. " I nodded in agreement. "So what’s next?

" Michelle asked, taking charge. "We have two more stops before you return to the office and act like you've just battled a fire in Portland. Can you hold out at home until Monday?

" "I think I'll have to," I replied. "No need to guess," she assured me. "Tell me what you need to hold out until then.

" "I'm not sure," I admitted. "Any good news? " She smiled.

"Let’s go. " Surprisingly, we pulled up at the medical center where I had had all my checkups and the procedure that ensured I'd never fathered children. "Why are we here?

" I asked. "Didn't you want good news? " she teased.

"Come on inside. " She arranged for us to see my doctor promptly. I glanced at Michelle, who stayed back as I went into the consultation room.

"Please," I gestured for her to join me, and she nodded. Dr Harrington didn't comment on Michelle's presence; he knew her role in my life and our situation. "Gary," he began, "I understand you're inquiring about a vasectomy reversal.

" My eyes widened. "Is that really possible? " I glanced at Michelle, who had a small smile on her face.

"Yes, it's quite feasible," Dr Harrington assured me, "with a success rate around 95% for reversals performed after three years. Though it does involve a longer surgery under general anesthesia, it’s very likely you could father children again. " Tears welled up in my eyes; the possibility of becoming a father again filled me with hope.

"I understand it's a lot to take in," Dr Harrington continued, handing me information on the procedure and its costs, noting it wasn't covered by insurance. "If you decide to proceed, we can schedule tests. " "Thank you, Doc," Michelle interjected, taking the paperwork.

"We'll be in touch. " She stood, and I followed her out of the clinic. "Is this good news enough for you?

" she asked softly, smiling at me. I impulsively hugged her, feeling grateful. "Thank you," I murmured into her hair, then pulled back quickly.

"I'm sorry. " "It's okay, Gary," she reassured me gently as we got into her car. "One more stop, then back to the office.

" I had visited Bill Way's house occasionally over the years while Caroline worked for him. He and his wife, Stephanie, lived in a gated community just outside the city, where they also hosted corporate events. When Michelle and I arrived, Stephanie was expecting us and welcomed us inside without hesitation.

She led us to a room that seemed to be Bill's office, indicated seats, and got down to business. "How can I help you? " Stephanie asked, addressing me directly.

I struggled to find my voice before finally asking, "Did you know? " Stephanie sighed sadly. "No," she admitted.

"I suspected, but I never had proof. I couldn't find anything concrete to take to a lawyer. If I had, I would have taken him for everything he had.

" "Join the club," Michelle muttered under her breath. Stephanie wanted to know if I had evidence, and I nodded. "Proof that none of my children are mine," I said, my voice trailing off as emotion choked me, and Stephanie offered her sympathy.

She shared her own suspicions about Bill and Caroline over the years, but her efforts to uncover the truth had been in vain. She expressed regret for not acting sooner if she had been certain. "What are you going to do now?

" she asked, curious about my next steps. I debated whether to disclose my plans to Bill's wife, unsure if she would inform him upon his return. Ultimately, I decided I wanted him to be as shocked as I had been.

"The real question is, what are you going to do? " I countered. Stephanie understood and didn't blame me for my caution.

She asked for a recommendation for a divorce lawyer, and Michelle provided her with a business card. "Thank you," Stephanie said, taking the card. "Will a week be enough?

" I nodded. "That should be fine," I replied. "Great," she said, standing up.

It was clear our meeting was concluding. Stephanie hugged me briefly and kissed my cheek. "I'm so sorry," she repeated.

"Take care. " She told Michelle, who winced slightly at the affectionate gesture. "He deserves better than what that woman did to him.

" We got back to the office, and I spent the rest of the day wrapping up my tasks from Portland. At day's end, I headed home. Michelle knocked on my door at her usual time, peered in, and mentioned she was leaving for the day.

Back to her usual professional demeanor, her return to form left me feeling adrift. I had felt a growing connection, but perhaps it was only in my mind. I bid her goodnight, grateful for her assistance.

I worked late into the night at the office, catching up on a lot. Around 8, Caroline messaged, asking when I'd be home. I estimated another hour or two, explaining the need to finalize post-trip matters.

She anticipated being asleep. by then, expressing love with kisses once again, I couldn't bring myself to reply. I pushed through work until nearly 11:00, hoping she'd be asleep when I arrived to minimize interaction.

Home was dark upon my return, seemingly normal. I checked on Sonia and James, both peacefully asleep. Emotions welled up, and I hid in the bathroom to avoid Caroline seeing me cry over children who weren't mine.

Deciding their fate remained unresolved, despite no legal obligation, my love for them persisted. How could I abandon them so soon after they were my pride and joy? Now, they stood as reminders of Caroline's betrayal.

I resolved to wait, uncertain how events might unfold. Struggling to sleep, I awoke to find Caroline gone. The housekeeper tended to the children, and my thoughts turned dark.

Did she know they weren't mine? I seethed, imagining her complicity in Caroline's infidelity. Come Monday, I vowed to ensure repercussions for her actions as an au pair, ensuring she never worked in that role again.

Wait, what am I doing? Taking out my anger on someone who has little chance of a positive outcome? It's a lose-lose situation.

I reasoned she might have risked her job or left if she had told me, yet she clearly cares for our children, whom she's looked after since before Sonia was born. Maybe my anger is misplaced. I went to work.

Michelle was already there, all business, as if the past days hadn't happened. She had cleared my schedule for marketing, she said. I settled in, and she brought our morning coffees—a first for her.

"Marketing? " I questioned. "Since when am I involved in that?

" She grinned, an oddly comforting sight. "We need a strategy," she explained, "the final part of Loren's plan. " Confused, I asked, "What plan?

" "We need to go public," Michelle insisted. "Tell everyone—her friends, family, church groups—everyone who knows her about who she really is and what she's done. " "I look terrible!

" I protested. "I'll be ridiculed as a betrayed man raising another man's children! " "You need to tell your side," Michelle countered.

"If you don't, Caroline will, and her version will make you look worse, claiming you're abusive or unfit. People may doubt, but preemptively speaking out will undermine her defense. " Michelle compiled a media package with evidence of Caroline's unfaithfulness, including where a private investigator's report, a DNA test confirming I wasn't the father of my two children, and videos from my house—including one showing James greeting Bill and others from areas I hadn't seen and didn't wish to.

Later that morning, I received an email from Lorraine. Stephanie had provided her with Bill's DNA, which she matched against my test, confirming he was indeed the father of both children—children I thought, suddenly unable to think of them as mine. We incorporated this new information into a package for Caroline's and my parents, her siblings, and her wider contacts on Facebook and LinkedIn.

Copies were scheduled for delivery by courier on Monday at 10:00 a. m. , timed with a planned event.

I just needed to get through the weekend. Drwing on my engineering background, I had devised a plan. In less than an hour, I designed and assembled a small device equipped with a motor, timer, and battery.

It could be set to vibrate after a specific duration. Friday evening, after the au pair left, I discreetly placed the device under Sophie's pillow. It was time to activate.

At our usual wake-up time of 6:00 a. m. the following morning, everything went smoothly.

Sophie's entry into our room in the morning preempted any closeness. I smirked to myself, having successfully occupied myself all Saturday with Caroline's long-neglected tasks. When she remarked on it, I casually pointed out they needed doing.

That night, when Caroline tried to initiate closeness, I feigned sleep after she emerged from the bathroom. On Sunday, her daughter's interrupted sleep from my device resulted in her returning to Caroline's room. Sunday was spent with the children at the zoo.

Throughout the day, I struggled with emotions, looking at Caroline—the woman I loved or thought I did—and the children I had cared for as my own. I almost broke down several times, biting my cheek until it bled to maintain composure, but I made it through the weekend. Monday arrived, and I was resolute.

I informed Caroline I'd work from home, ostensibly to discuss matters with the au pair. As she left for work, I appeared absorbed in emails and barely acknowledged her farewell. After she departed, I noted the time: 8:15.

The au pair knocked on my office door, proposing a trip to the play center, which I declined, opting to keep the children home, surprising her. James was disappointed but acquiesced despite his eagerness to go. Shortly after 9:00, Michelle arrived at the house, surprising me, but I welcomed her inside.

It was the first time I'd ever made coffee for her. At 9:30, we joined Lorraine for a conference call. "Gary," Lorraine began, "this is your last chance to stop.

I'm not saying you should; I'm just saying if you've had a change of heart over the weekend, now's the time to speak up. " "No," I replied firmly. "Then I'll see you on the other side," Lorraine confirmed.

Everything was set. I monitored my email, awaiting service confirmation. At precisely 10:00 a.

m. , the first email arrived, followed by the second three minutes later, and the third five minutes after that. Then my phone rang.

Expecting Caroline, it turned out to be my mother. "Gary, hi Mom," I answered. "What's going on?

" she asked. "Did you read the package I sent? " I inquired.

"Yes. " "Then you know as much as I do," I said. "Caroline has been cheating on me, likely throughout our entire marriage, with her boss.

The children aren't mine. I'm divorcing her. " "Gary, you can't.

" "No, Mom, I have to. " "Work, I have other calls. " I ended the call only for it to.

. . Ring immediately again.

This time from Caroline. Gary, I didn't pick up, waiting for her to continue. "We need to talk," she said.

I remained silent. "I'm coming home. " With that, she hung up.

"Caroline's on her way," I informed Michelle. "I'll step out," she offered. I wanted to ask her to stay, but I couldn't find the words.

I simply looked at her. "Call me," she said. "You know what's happening.

" And she left. About 20 minutes later, Caroline arrived home. I heard her car pull up outside.

She didn't bother entering through the garage. Uncertain of what to expect, I waited as she walked into the house and into my office, taking a seat across from me. "Gary, I'm not interested," I cut her off.

"Actually uninteresting," I corrected. "I don't even want—" "No," I interjected. "I don't want to hear a single word from you.

You lied to me for nine freaking years. Neither child is mine. You convinced me to get a vasectomy while you were still on birth control so you could continue with Bill.

" Her eyes widened at my words. "So, no, Carolyn," I continued. "I don't care what you have to say.

My lawyer's card is in the package you received when you were served. If you have something you think I should know, talk to her. " "What about the children?

" she asked. "What children? " I retorted.

"I don't have children, and if it were up to you, I never would have. I could ask why you did this to me, but I don't want to hear another lie. I'm not interested in your excuses, justifications, or reasons.

I want this to end so I can salvage what's left of my life and move on. " I called the au pair into the room; she could hear me through the open door. "You're fired," I stated.

"Immediately. Leave now. " "What?

" she exclaimed. "Why? " "Because you covered for her.

" I pointed at Caroline. "You knew she was having an affair with her boss, and I don't know if you knew the kids weren't mine, but you definitely knew what was going on. I have video evidence of you discussing children with Bill.

Get out! " "Gary," Caroline interjected. "You can't fire her; I pay her salary.

" The au pair looked gratefully at Caroline. "Fine," I conceded. "I've already contacted the agency, informing them you were complicit in an extramarital affair.

If Caroline wants to keep you, she'll need to handle your salary, taxes, vacation, pension, sick leave, and insurance. " The au pair turned pale; losing her job and being removed from the agency's records would make finding new domestic work nearly impossible. Agencies communicated with each other now.

"Get out," I told her, and she hurried away. "Did you have to do that? " Caroline asked.

"You started talking again," I replied. "I told you I don't want to hear it. What I want is for you to gather your things, take your kids, and leave my house.

" "This is my home too," she insisted. "According to the documents—" "No," I interrupted. "It's registered solely in my name.

Until the courts say otherwise, get out. " My raised voice startled her. "James!

" he entered the room. "Mommy! " he said.

"Sonia fell! " Caroline, with a shocked expression and tears streaming down her face, stood up and walked toward her daughter. I closed my office door and remained inside while she packed.

A few minutes later, she returned holding Sonia. "Are you going to say goodbye to Sonia? " "Not like this," I said.

"She's not my daughter, and he's not my son. Take them to Papa Bill and let him take care of his children. They have nothing to do with me.

" "Gary—" "Get out! " I heard the front door close, and a few minutes later, her car started. She was gone.

I finally exhaled, feeling like I'd been holding my breath forever, and collapsed. I didn't hear the door open, and I jumped when arms wrapped around me. I buried my head in my hands.

Looking up, I saw Michelle holding me. She pulled me close, and I sobbed in her embrace. It took some time to compose myself.

I had just thrown away nine years: my marriage, my children, my life— all gone. I didn't want to face the world anymore. Michelle took charge again.

"Let’s go," she said. "Lorraine mentioned it could take Caroline about four hours to get an emergency order to occupy the house. Because of the children and this being our matrimonial home, she'll be back.

Do you really want to let her please herself by throwing you out of your own home? " We gathered some clothes and important documents. I needed to figure out where to stay, but we loaded my car and Michelle's car with my belongings and left.

First, we stopped at the office where I had been served. Later that day, Lorraine called to update me on the proceedings. Not only was there an order granting Caroline temporary occupancy of the house, but also a restraining order prohibiting me from coming within 100 meters of it.

If I needed to retrieve anything, I'd have to schedule it with Caroline's attorney at my own expense. Confused by the situation, I found myself relocated to Michelle's spare room. My clothes were in her closet, and all my documents were neatly arranged in her office cabinets.

A week had elapsed since Caroline filed for divorce. I'd work during the day, then return with Michelle to her house for meals and sleep. In the mornings, she'd bring me coffee, prepare breakfast, and we'd commute to the office together.

Our interactions felt unchanged; she remained strictly professional, except for a comforting hug during my first breakdown at home. Smiles were scarce given the circumstances. Monday morning, we met with the lawyers from Caroline and Bill's employer.

Details were unclear to me, but apparently, we filed a claim for an amount the company couldn't afford, despite. . .

Having insurance capped at a million dollars, their lawyers were businesslike. Lorraine, my lawyer, seemed pleased. "What’s the next step?

" their lawyer inquired. Lorraine replied, "Immediate and permanent dismissal of the senior member with loss of pension benefits, plus retaining Caroline on staff for 3 years with a payout of 1. 5 million.

" I tuned out during their discussion. Eventually, they agreed to the terms, though my share was reduced to $750,000. This would help settle some of my debt to the company's pension fund.

"Payment will follow finalization of the divorce," Lorraine stated. They nodded in understanding. Lorraine continued to accompany us at the subsequent meeting with Bill Wri's lawyers.

I left their office $500,000 richer. Now I had enough to fully repay the pension loan and retain a small reserve for after the divorce. My final meeting that day was with Caroline's lawyers.

She was present but avoided looking at me when I entered. Michelle and Lorraine were by my side. "The financial claims in the divorce petition are outrageous," Caroline's lawyer began.

"Your client, as CEO and majority shareholder of a company valued at approximately $20 million, not to mention assets, savings—" "Allow me to interrupt," Lorraine interjected, presenting papers. "According to the prenuptial agreement signed by all parties, the company is not divisible in divorce. My client recently made a substantial additional investment in another company, depleting most of his savings, 401(k), and home equity.

He also borrowed from the company's pension fund. Due to this loan, his salary has been reduced. He now earns less than your client, and I'll seek interim support while he stabilizes.

" "What about the children? " the lawyer inquired. Lorraine replied, "DNA evidence proves these children aren't his.

She falsified birth records to fraudulently name my client as father. Additionally, we're pursuing damages for coercing him into surgical sterilization under false paternity. " "Your client can accept the divorce terms as is, vacate the marital home, and receive half of the joint account currently valued at $9,443.

15. " The lawyer reviewed the documents, then glanced at Caroline and finally at me. "Gary, please," she pleaded.

"N years," I said. "N damn years. Day after day you lied to me.

There's nothing you can say that I want to hear. " Caroline looked at her lawyer and nodded. She signed the papers.

I wasn't present when she left our home. Instead, I received a letter from her lawyer confirming the lifting of the restraining order and transferring the house to me. Despite contemplating a return, I opted to list the house for sale.

While it didn't fully cover my bank debt, I bridged the gap, leaving the bank satisfied. Two months had passed, and I was still residing in Michelle's spare room. Following our divorce, Caroline moved back in with her parents.

Despite presenting solid evidence, they staunchly supported her and refused to communicate with me personally. It wasn't a loss for me. For reasons unknown to me, Stephanie hadn't followed through with divorcing Bill as she had promised.

I didn't inquire further. Due to his loss of a corporate job and pension, they had to sell their house in the gated community and move into a small apartment. Bill managed to secure a decent job with his market connections and skills, albeit at a lower income than before.

I had no idea if Caroline and Stephanie had crossed paths. I hadn't seen Stephanie since that day at her lawyer's office and had no desire to do so. I was at my desk at work when Michelle knocked and entered without waiting for a response.

"Bill Wri is dead," she announced bluntly. "What? " I exclaimed.

"How? " "Apparently, Stephanie caught him with Caroline again," she explained. "She shot him.

" I leaned back in my chair, a wide grin spreading across my face. I tried to suppress it, but it persisted. "That couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," I finally remarked.

Michelle chuckled. "Are you mad at me for feeling happy about this? " I asked her.

"Not at all," Michelle replied firmly. "That idiot got what he deserved. By the way, this just arrived.

" She placed an official envelope on my desk. We both knew its contents. I took it and opened it.

"That's it," I said quietly. "I'm finally a free man. " "Finally," Michelle echoed unexpectedly.

She leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't a brief peck; it was a full, passionate kiss that left me stunned and breathless. When she pulled back, I sat back in my chair, surprised and tense.

"For 9 years," she began softly, "I've been by your side. You're the most honorable man I've ever known. You never once looked at me inappropriately or made advances, and I admired you for that.

I've been waiting for this moment for 9 years, and now that you're free, I want to show you that not all women are deceitful. We make a great team. I know you inside out, just as any wife knows her husband, and you know me too.

Please, give me a chance to prove that. " I was speechless; memories of our time together flooded my mind. Before Caroline's betrayal came to light, I realized I had genuine feelings for Michelle.

It was impossible not to develop them after working closely together for so long, especially during my marriage to Caroline. I didn't need to ponder these feelings; they were already crystal clear. "Do you have anything to say?

" she asked, concern evident on her face, a rare sight. "How many? " I queried.

"Confusion flickered across her face. 'How many what? '" she asked.

"Children," I clarified. "How many children should we have?