My Wife Got Pregnant By My Assistant

The wife of the CEO, who had been on a year-long business trip abroad, returned home—with a pregnant belly.

“Nate Bennett,” she said, eyes filled with guilt, “I’m sorry. At a cocktail party during the trip, Lucas Grant and I got drunk... and ended up sleeping together. I never meant for this to happen.”

Lucas—the same assistant she personally hired before leaving for that trip.

For a moment, it felt like the ground beneath me cracked open. My mind went blank. I stood there, stunned, like I’d been struck by lightning.

But after everything we’d been through as husband and wife—years of shared life, emotions, and effort—I forced myself to stay calm. I wanted to believe this didn’t have to be the end.

“Abort the child,” I said slowly. “Fire Lucas. If you do that, I’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”

“No.”

She rejected my condition without a moment’s hesitation.

“I’m carrying triplets,” she said firmly. “An abortion could cost me my life. Would you really risk that?”

I stared at her, heart sinking.

“And Lucas...” she continued, almost defensively, “he’s the children’s biological father. He may not be the most competent employee, but I can’t just throw him away. He needs a job, at the very least. I won’t fire him.”

Before I could respond, Lucas himself barged into the room. He dropped to his knees in front of me without warning.

“Mr. Bennett, please,” he begged, voice trembling. “I swear I don’t have any ulterior motives. Just give me and the children a chance to survive.”

Evelyn Carter quickly pulled him up and gave me a disapproving glare. “Look at him. What more do you want?”

The two shared a glance—fleeting, yet unmistakably tender.

At that moment, I realized something.

We were over.

Whatever remained between us was now just a hollow shell of what used to be.

I turned and left without a word. Later that night, I called a number I hadn’t dialed in years.

“I’ve been a househusband for too long,” I said into the receiver. “It’s time I went back to being myself.”

A playful, familiar laugh echoed on the other end.

“Well, well. New York’s original playboy makes his grand return. Welcome back.”

——

The very next day, I filed for divorce.

But Evelyn didn’t respond. Instead, she checked into a hospital to rest and focus on her pregnancy.

Months passed. The babies were born.

When I arrived at the hospital, I ran into her parents just outside the ward. They looked ecstatic—radiating the joy of becoming grandparents.

“Nate! Perfect timing,” her father said cheerfully. “We’ve named the boys already. Richard, Richard, and Lilly. All good strong names, don’t you think?”

I didn’t answer. Not immediately.

Evelyn’s mother scoffed. “Why? You object to them taking our surname?”

She folded her arms.

“Since marrying Evelyn, she’s clearly been the one in charge. You’ve always played a supporting role. So let’s not kid ourselves—those boys are Carters, not Bennetts.”

I gave them a half-smile.

I had no objection. Whether they bore the name Carter—or even Grant—made no difference to me now.

“It’s settled,” Evelyn’s father added. “Your opinion changes nothing.”

“And I heard you wanted a divorce?” he scoffed. “You really are ungrateful. You should be thanking the heavens she didn’t dump you the moment she got pregnant.”

“You should apologize to her immediately.”

My lips curled, more out of irony than anger.

Of course. Parents like these could only raise someone like Evelyn.

I brushed past them and opened the door.

Inside, I saw the two of them—Evelyn and Lucas—leaning over the three newborns.

They were laughing softly, talking about whose features the babies inherited.

“The eyes are like mine,” she said. “But look at their skin—exactly like yours.”

It was a warm, picture-perfect moment.

And once, that warmth belonged to us.

But now, the leading man has changed.

Lucas noticed me and quickly stood up, bowing slightly with a respectful look.

“Mr. Bennett,” he said, cautiously speaking.

But the moment Evelyn stepped into the bathroom, his face changed in an instant.

Gone was humility.

He looked up at me with a slow, knowing smile.