“If he used business funds to support Chloe, we can treat it as misuse of corporate and marital assets. We will audit every account.”
I opened my handbag and placed a sealed envelope on his desk.
Arthur studied the medical documents inside.
His expression changed.
“Azoospermia,” he read. “No measurable sperm count.”
“Those are Julian’s results.”
Four years earlier, a fertility specialist had told us that Julian was extremely unlikely to father a child naturally.
He had collapsed in the clinic.
He begged me never to tell Evelyn because she was obsessed with family legacy and grandchildren. He said the truth would destroy his pride and change how his relatives viewed him.
So I protected him.
I allowed everyone to believe I was the infertile one.
I endured Evelyn’s insults.
I drank the remedies she prepared, even when they made me ill.
I accepted humiliating comments at birthdays, holidays and family dinners.
Julian watched me carry the blame and never corrected them.
Arthur looked from the report to me.
“But Chloe is pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“Then Julian may not be the father.”
