My Wife Loved Him, Until the Truth Destroyed Her

At our daughter’s school acceptance banquet, my wife introduced her to a so-called godfather.

The moment I heard my daughter sweetly call another man “dad,” I didn’t hesitate to contact a top lawyer and had the divorce papers drawn up.

When I posted the divorce agreement to my social media feed, Maya Harris was in a fit of rage.

"I just found a godfather for our daughter, and you’re already throwing a tantrum about divorce?"

Even my daughter looked irritated. "Dad, you’re not young anymore. Can you stop acting so childish? Delete that post before you embarrass yourself."

Instead, I pinned the post.

"Call it childish or dramatic, I don’t care! This divorce is happening, no matter what will happen!"

——

With that, Maya’s voice rose sharply.

"Dylan Clark, do you really have to ruin the most important day of our daughter’s life?"

"Hurry up and delete that post before more people see it. If you don’t, don’t even think about getting on stage to give a speech."

Then, just like that, Maya and our daughter walked off, hand in hand, toward Alexander Hill and his son.

The host, seeing the four of them take the stage together, assumed they were one perfect family.

Every gaze at the banquet shifted toward me.

Someone even nudged me toward the stage.

“Hey, you’ve got it wrong! He’s the top scorer’s real father!”

The host quickly apologized and eagerly tried to usher me up. Still, Maya stepped in, shoved me aside, and grabbed the microphone for herself.

“Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend my daughter’s school banquet. Ivy was able to become the top scorer, all thanks to Alexander’s dedicated tutoring. My daughter and I are incredibly grateful to him! You could say, without him, there would be no glory for us!”

“So from today on, Alexander is Ivy’s godfather.”

She pulled the boy standing next to Alexander to her side.

“And from now on, Alexander’s son will be my godson. I’ll be a proud mother of both a son and a daughter!”

Tears filled her eyes as she spoke, her voice heavy with emotion.

But when she turned to me, there was not a shred of warmth in her teary gaze.

“Dylan, what kind of father are you? Aren’t you going to come thank Ivy’s godfather?”

She had shoved me off the stage earlier, and now she was acting like she was doing me a favor by telling me to offer tea to Alexander.

With a wide grin, Alexander laughed and said he didn’t deserve such treatment, then jogged over, threw an arm around my shoulder, and whispered with a smirk, "Brother Dylan, you really need to control Maya. How could she make you serve me tea? Anyone watching might think you're a waiter!"

I ignored the mockery in his eyes and tried to shake off his arm.

Somehow, he stumbled and fell off the stage.

There was a sharp rip as his shirt tore, revealing half his back. He cried out in exaggerated panic, "Brother Dylan, I wasn’t trying to steal your spotlight! Why humiliate me like this?"

Maya and our daughter immediately rushed to his side.

Their eyes landed on me, as if accusing me of things I had not even done.

I instinctively opened my mouth to explain, "I didn’t do anything..."

But Maya slapped me hard across the face.

"Exactly. You didn’t do anything, so what?! We’re all blind now?!"

Even as the guests whispered and the scene spiraled into chaos, she remained unfazed. She simply took Alexander to change into a fresh outfit and returned as if nothing had happened.

But the moment I caught sight of the emerald pendants around their necks, the sting on my face vanished.

I stepped forward, voice tight. "How could you give them that emerald?"

To make Hannah feel completely loved, Maya had once endured a five-month pregnancy termination, our second child, the boy we had longed for. That child had remained our greatest sorrow for years.

Crushed by guilt, Maya had once climbed the long steps of God the Father Church on her knees to light an eternal lamp for him. She had even spent a fortune commissioning an emerald cross pendant in his memory.

And now, that very pendant hung from the neck of Alexander’s son.

The leftover emerald, carved from the same stone, had been turned into a delicate ornament, yet now worn by Alexander himself.