My Son Prefers His Dad’s First Love

“Dr. Gonzales has already assigned a new attending physician to Zahra Thomas. If you have any questions in the future, feel free to reach out to her.” Elizabeth didn’t even bother to look up as she slid the consent form across the desk to Baker Bryant. She handed him another document as well. “Sign this one too.”

The words “Divorce Agreement” hit Baker like a slap. He froze mid-signature, his expression turning to ice. “What is this? Because I changed Zahra’s doctor, you’re asking for a divorce?”

Elizabeth kept her eyes down. “If that’s how you want to put it.”

Baker’s jaw tightened, clearly pissed off by her cold shrug. “Zahra got hurt near your hospital, so I brought her here. I changed her doctor just to avoid any awkwardness.”

Elizabeth finally lifted her gaze to meet his. “Awkward for whom?”

A flicker of irritation crossed Baker’s eyes. “Elizabeth, whatever happened with Zahra is ancient history. We’ve been married for seven years, and we have a son together. You don’t need to use her as an excuse—no one’s ever going to replace you as Mrs. Bryant.”

Elizabeth almost laughed. Did he honestly think she gave a damn about being Mrs. Bryant? She closed her eyes, swallowing down the bitterness, and when she looked at him again, her stare was pure ice. “Just sign it. Miss Thomas is still waiting for you inside.”

Baker glanced toward the hospital room. Zahra looked pale and fragile, curled up in the bed like a wounded bird, radiating helplessness.

He pressed his lips together. “We’ll talk about this at home.”

Elizabeth watched him walk in without a second thought, then turned and headed back to her office. Her phone buzzed—a text from the nanny: “Mrs. Bryant, Sam said he isn’t coming straight home today. He wants to stop by the hospital. He won a trophy and said he wanted to share the good news with you. The driver is bringing him over.”

Elizabeth smiled. Her son, Sam, was the one bright spot in this marriage. He could be a handful, sure, but he had a good heart. Sneaking a break, she went down to the entrance to wait for him.

Half an hour passed. No Sam. A knot of worry formed in her chest, and she was about to call him when she passed by Zahra’s room. Through the window, she spotted Sam inside—beaming, holding up his trophy like a little champion.

“It’s all thanks to Auntie Zahra! If she hadn’t come to the sports meet with me and Dad, I never would’ve won! I love Auntie Zahra the most!”

He was all over her, chattering nonstop, practically glued to her side.

“If Auntie Zahra were my mom, she wouldn’t make me study boring subjects or eat junk I hate. Unlike my mom—she can’t even play video games, and she’s always telling me not to play!”

He rolled his eyes with that shocking, almost adult-like disdain. “Why is mom so annoying?”

Then, with a maturity that cut deep, he added, “Dad, don’t you find her annoying too? Why don’t you just divorce her?”

At that moment, something inside Elizabeth cracked wide open. Her own son—the boy who always told her he loved her—was saying this? She stood frozen outside the room, fists clenched so hard her nails bit into her palms, trying to hold back the sting behind her eyes.

She remembered his last birthday party. She’d asked what he wished for, and he’d grinned, “I wish Auntie Zahra could be my mom.”

She’d always figured “Auntie Zahra” was his teacher. Kids crushing on teachers was normal. She never thought twice about it.

Until now.

Standing outside that hospital room, she watched her husband and her son crowd around another woman—faces lit up with a warmth and joy she’d never seen directed at her. It hit her like a freight train, leaving her numb, hollow.

Her son, the one she carried for nine months, raised with every ounce of her heart for seven years—now openly wishing for a new mom. And that new mom was none other than her husband’s unforgettable first love.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Seeing her standing there, Sam’s expression soured. “What are you doing here? Are you gonna do something to Auntie Zahra?”

His young face was twisted with suspicion.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to explain, but the hostility in his eyes choked off her words. So this wasn’t about coming to see her after school—it was about rushing to his beloved Auntie Zahra.

“Sam, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Baker snapped.

“Baker, don’t be hard on Sam. It’s my fault.” Zahra’s voice drifted out, soft and weak. She added, “Is that Dr. Boyd? I’m so sorry—Sam was just being protective of me. Please don’t blame him.”

“Sam is usually a good boy. I apologize on his behalf.”

With a few gentle words, Zahra painted Elizabeth as the villain.

Sam ran over and shoved Elizabeth hard. She stumbled back, hitting the wall—a sharp, searing jolt shot through her back.

Sam pointed at her, furious. “Go away! Stay away from Auntie Zahra! You’re so mean to her! I don’t want you here—just LEAVE!”

Sam’s outburst drew stares from other patients. Curious eyes bore into Elizabeth, turning her embarrassment into a hot, burning flush. Not wanting to cause a scene at work, she turned and walked away.

From behind her, Zahra’s voice carried: “Baker, you should go after Dr. Boyd. Comfort her.”

“No need. She’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Elizabeth’s heart twisted. It was true—she never stayed angry for long. But this wasn’t anger. It was something deeper, a crushing sense of defeat she couldn’t shake.

She’d barely made it back to her office when Dr. Gonzales knocked.

“Elizabeth, your family issues aren’t really my business, but they’re causing quite a stir here at the hospital. Would you consider taking a month off?”

Elizabeth set her jaw, eyes cold. “Is this the hospital’s decision—or Baker Bryant’s?”

Since the hospital was part of the Bryant empire, Baker had all the authority.

Dr. Gonzales hesitated, and that pause told her everything. Baker wanted his first love to recuperate in peace, so he was pushing Elizabeth out.

“And if I refuse?” Elizabeth asked.

“Elizabeth, you know you can’t fight city hall. You and Baker are family—there’s no need to make this ugly. But if you insist on going against hospital policy, I’m afraid… termination might be your only option.”

“Fine. I quit.”

Leaving the hospital, Elizabeth knew Baker wouldn’t let go of the marriage easily—not when his reputation was at stake. So she went to see a lawyer.

She gave up her shares and custody of Sam, asking only for five million dollars and a clean break.

When she got home, a new photo caught her eye on the TV stand—Sam, Baker, and, standing a little apart, a woman. She looked closer. It was Zahra.

It hit her then: without her even noticing, another woman had already slipped into her family.