After we got married, we dreamed of having children, but tests revealed that my wife couldn’t conceive. I vowed to stay by her side, but after two years, my desire to be a father hadn’t faded. Eventually, we divorced, split our assets, and I left to start fresh.
Five years later, still in love with her, I returned. When she opened the door, her face turned pale. My heart nearly stopped when I saw she was pregnant. Then, a little boy, around four years old, ran up to her and asked, “Mommy, who is that?”
I was speechless. Unable to process what I was seeing, I walked away.
Curious, I asked some old neighbors about her. That’s when I learned she had quickly moved on, found a boyfriend, and now had two children—with a third on the way.
Digging deeper, I uncovered the truth: she had never been infertile. The doctor who diagnosed her had faked the report, knowing how much I longed to be a father. My ex-wife had lied to get a divorce, walking away with half my money, my house, and my cars. She had planned everything, leaving me devastated.
It’s been four years since that discovery, and I’m happy to say I’ve found real love. I’m now the proud father of a beautiful daughter. But even with all the happiness in my life, the sting of that betrayal still lingers.