Two years into our marriage, we still hadn’t conceived.
A hospital visit confirmed our worst fear.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said gently. “Your wife has a 99% chance of being infertile. I hope you both can come to terms with it.”
We both loved children. We wanted to build a family to continue our legacy.
The news was, without doubt, a heavy blow.
But for a woman, hearing she could never bear a child—it cut her particularly more deeply.
After that, Cherity started drowning herself in alcohol.
Even when we made love, whenever she remembered what the doctor said, the fire in her eyes would quickly die out.
Garland’s POV
Then she’d push me away, saying, “I’m going to take a shower.”
That was how our days went—for eight long years… until a business party a year ago.
Someone spiked Cherity’s drink. Disoriented, she ended up sleeping with Barrett Durnam, the underprivileged student I had sponsored.
It was as if the gears of fate suddenly shifted. Everything started spiraling out of control.
In my past life, when Cherity found out she was pregnant, she became obsessed—desperately looking forward to the twins’ birth, longing for a family.
She was even willing to hide her lover in a gilded cage.