Ryan rang the next day, inquiring about my birthday.

But he didn't return until three days later.

Hearing him at the door, I stepped out from the sunroom to see Ryan poised in the entryway.

His physique was striking in a crisply tailored suit, his smile polite yet detached.

Now he was worlds apart from the man I'd seen laughing freely on the beach.

"When did you get back? Why didn't you give me a heads-up?"

"If I told you, you'd have come to pick me up. It's chilly out, and you're not feeling well. Better to stay in."

I simply smiled, no reply.

Was he more concerned about my health or about me running into his secret wife and kid?

After a quick change, Ryan presented me with a bracelet.

"Hannah, sorry to miss your birthday. I made this myself, do you like it?"

I took and examined the bracelet.

It was clearly handcrafted with intricately woven shells and pearls.

Money can buy anything these days, but a gift made by hand? That's a true gesture of affection. Ordinarily, I'd be overjoyed.

But my birthday was shadowed by Sherry's video, featuring a market stall filled with similar handcrafted bracelets in the background.

I let him slip the bracelet on my wrist, but as he leaned in for a kiss, I instinctively pulled away.

Caught off guard, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"You've been on a plane all day, go freshen up in the shower." I gently pushed him towards the bathroom.

Seeing his face always brought back images of him and Sherry, intimately close, their affair clearly more than a fleeting mistake.

How else could they have ended up with a child?

While bringing Ryan his milk, he seemed engrossed in his laptop, oblivious to my approach.

"Looking at kids' clothes now?"

I peeked at the screen. There was a young boy modeled two distinct outfits.

Ryan accepted the milk. "A buddy of mine is thinking of launching a kids' line. Just giving it a look. Which do you prefer?"

I studied the photos. "The left one looks sharp, like a tiny gentleman."

He nodded, taking a sip of milk.

I didn't miss the slow smile creeping across his face.

That smile was his tell—it always appeared when he moved from anxious to at ease.

Maybe he hadn't expected that me, his official wife, helping his mistress choose outfits for their kid would be so exhilarating.

Just before entering, I'd seen a new post by Sherry, displaying similar photos online, trying to gauge if her followers agreed with the kid's dad's taste.

I leaned on the desk, slowly sitting down opposite Ryan. "Ryan, maybe we should have a kid."

His smile dropped instantly. "Hannah, we agreed on no kids."

"Maybe it's time to rethink that."

"Are you backing out on our agreement now? Look, work's crazy, I can't manage both you and a kid."

His words were icy, sending a chill down my spine.

We can't back out on our agreement?

He'd sworn there'd never be anyone else, yet here we were.

He had the energy for a holiday fling but none for his wife.

Let me lay it out. Ryan and I did have a kid once.

A year after tying the knot, I found out I was pregnant. Ryan's business was hitting a critical pivot, and he was swamped everyday.

I couldn't stand watching him struggle alone, and since our little one was such an easy baby, I hustled right alongside him, day and night.

Even five months pregnant, I was still running around on-site.

Due to Ryan's radical shake-up at work, long-time employees staged a protest, and I ended up right in the middle. A shove down the stairs, and just like that, I lost the baby.

That fall nearly killed me. I spent a month in the hospital, and it did a number on me.

Once home, I found myself trapped in grief, nights spent holding the baby's clothes, crying until I couldn't anymore.

Ryan held me through countless nights.

Eventually, he suggested we might be better off not having kids at all, thinking it might spare me further pain—I agreed.

As years passed, his business stabilized, my health got back on track, and both our parents started nagging us about a baby.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't reconsidered.

Someone once warned him, "If you wait any longer, your wife will be too old to have kids!"

Ryan clapped back, "I'm the one who doesn't want kids. Plus, I've got a medical condition. I can't have kids, period."

That shut me down, and I figured, maybe we could just keep going as we were.

But then, about a month ago, I stumbled across Sherry on a "people you may know" suggestion.

Her feed was littered with glimpses of Ryan, blurry though they were, I'd know him anywhere.

He'd taken them—her and the kid—on his business trips, hitting all the tourist traps.

They even hit that starlit restaurant I'd always dreamed of, all three munching on a kid's meal.

At that moment, it felt like the sky was falling.

For so long, Ryan had kept it under wraps. If it hadn't been for that friend suggestion, who knows when I'd have found out about his affair.