During the check-up, the doctor examined my scans with a serious look.
“The recovery isn’t good,” he said quietly.
“And honestly, your chances of returning to a normal life are very low.”
He looked up. “Where’s your wife? Why isn’t she here with you?”
I sat there, strangely calm and finally replied in a faint voice, “She’s dead.”
A week later, Charlotte finally came home—with Eric beside her.
What shocked me even more was that Eric was holding their bastard child.
“Sorry, Andrew, I didn’t mean to trouble you,” he said, looking at me nervously. “My wife’s been really busy lately, so she asked me to take care of our baby. Honestly, I have no idea how to look after a kid, but Charlotte said she loves children. She suggested I move in here–to make it easy for all of us.”
I threw a glance at Charlotte. There wasn’t a trace of guilt or fear in her eyes.
As if her lie was flawless—something I could never expose.
“Eric’s wife won’t be back for a while,” she said naturally. “So let him stay with us in the meantime. We don’t have kids anyway and we could use the practice.”
Then she patted my shoulder lightly. “It’s all for the company.”
I forced a pale smile. “Sure. Come in.”