My wife, Ginny Fontaine-Beckett, and her best friend, Hannah Albright, gave birth one after the other.

Ginny had more milk than our daughter could handle.

It wasn't uncommon for our little girl to end up painfully bloated, and Ginny would ask me to help or reach for the breast pump to relieve herself. Hannah, on the other hand, barely had any milk.

So, Hannah started bringing her son over, asking Ginny to nurse him.

At first, I didn't think much of it.

But over time, Hannah practically moved in with us.

Sometimes her husband would stop by, too. They were loud, always lively, and constantly in and out of the house. It got to the point where I felt like a guest in my own home.

A few times, I bought formula, thinking it would solve the problem.

But Ginny cried, saying I didn't care for her. She told me nursing was the only way to relieve the pain from her engorged breasts.

After that, I stopped interfering.

But six months later, after Ginny had stopped nursing Hannah's son, I saw that same flushed look on her face again. That was it. I couldn't take it anymore.

I told her, in a tone colder than I intended, that I wanted a divorce.

Ginny froze, staring at me like I'd lost my damn mind. Then she blurted out, "You want to divorce me just because I nursed my best friend's baby?"

"Yes," I shot back, flat and cold.

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I was in pain, Easton. If I just dumped the milk, it would've been a waste. Giving it to Hannah's baby made sense. Besides, he's just a baby—are you seriously jealous of that?"

I didn't say anything. My decision was final.

When her mother, Deonna Fontaine, heard about it, she stormed over and jabbed her finger at me.

"My daughter has been nothing but good to you! When you couldn't afford the dowry, she didn't complain. She even gave you money to start your business. She cooks, she cares for you, she keeps this family together."

"You ungrateful man, Easton!" she yelled, her voice full of fury. "Is there someone else? Is that why you're using this as an excuse to leave her?"

I just scoffed and kept my mouth shut.

Ginny's eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. "You're really divorcing me because I nursed my best friend's baby? Is that fair to me?"

I gave a cold smile. "If you think life's better with them, then fine. I'll be waiting for you at the courthouse tomorrow morning."

——

After our daughter was born, Ginny started nursing Hannah's son.

I couldn't help but notice her bare chest, white and full, with Hannah's baby latched on. Every time she finished, her face glowed, flushed and satisfied.

Today, I reached my breaking point. I told Ginny I wanted a divorce.

As I was about to leave, Hannah caught my arm. "Easton, are you out of your mind? Ginny's just helping me feed my baby. She hasn't done anything wrong. Are you really jealous just because it's a boy and not a girl?"

I yanked my arm free. "You know damn well why."

Hannah's husband, Alex Stafford, showed up just then.

After hearing the whole story, he laughed, clapped me on the shoulder, and said, "Easton, your wife's a good woman. She nurses the baby privately. Don't throw away your marriage over something this small."

"Don't fucking touch me!" I snapped, pushing his hand away.

Deonna, sharp-tongued as ever, froze for half a second before snapping back.

She jabbed a finger at me. "Wait a minute, are you pissed because the baby's getting the milk instead of you? Jesus, that's sick. How much lower can you get?"

She raised her voice so the whole block could hear. "You know how painful it is for new mothers when their milk comes in. Instead of helping her, you demand a divorce. Do you even have a heart?"

Neighbors and relatives started gathering, whispering among themselves before turning to glare at me.

"Look at him. A man who only thinks about sex. His wife's suffering, and he can't even show her a little compassion!"

"She doesn't have postpartum depression, and he still wants a divorce? Pathetic!"

"I heard Ginny even bailed him out when his business went under. And now this? Repaying kindness with betrayal?"

Hannah's icy voice sliced through the tension as she said, "If I'd known you were this kind of man, I never would've let Ginny marry you."

Hearing that, Ginny broke. Tears streamed down her face like pearls off a snapped string.

"Easton," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Before I had the baby, I was the one worrying about your business. I helped you get clients. And now, this is how you repay me?"

"You don’t care about me anymore! After having the baby, you stopped caring about me. You just play games when you get home, and you don’t even get up. You’ve never once changed her diaper!"

Ginny's voice was shaking with anger.

"Do you even know how painful it is when your milk comes in? Look it up if you don't believe me! And Hannah's my best friend. She doesn't have enough milk, so I help her feed her baby. What's wrong with that?"

The room was buzzing with outrage, voices cutting in one after another.

"Easton, you're failing as a husband."

"Luckily, my man takes care of me. When I had our baby, he treated me with nothing but tenderness."

Annoyed by their meddling, I let out a cold smile. "You're nothing but outsiders. You don't know half of what's gone on, yet you think you can sit there and pass judgment on me?"

I turned to Ginny. "Come to the courthouse tomorrow. I'll be waiting."

I started for the door, but then Hannah suddenly grabbed my arm.

"You animal!" she yelled, "You want a divorce over something so small? Go to hell!"

Before I could react, she swung a punch at me. It landed squarely, and pain shot through my face. Blood rushed from my nose.

Her husband, Alex Stafford, stepped forward, ready to throw his own punch.

"Stop!" Ginny cried, rushing to pull them back.

She quickly wiped the blood from my face, her eyes filled with worry.

"Honey, please. Look at our daughter. She's only a few months old. How can you just abandon us now?"

In her arms, our baby giggled and reached toward me, her little smile impossibly sweet.

For a brief moment, my chest tightened.

But I forced myself to sigh, to stay calm. "Let's just get divorced."

"You must have someone else outside," Hannah snapped, still straining against Alex's grip. "Alex, don't hold me back. I'm going to kill him!"

Alex pulled her closer, holding her firmly. "Easton, listen. If you're really this upset about Ginny nursing my son, then fine. Hannah can bring him home, and we'll switch him to formula. We were already considering it, anyway. Why don't you and Ginny live your life in peace?"

The people around us nodded in agreement.

"Now that's how a man should handle things."

"If Hannah switches to formula, then Ginny can give her milk to you instead. Don't throw this marriage away."

"I heard Ginny helped you when your company was struggling, even bringing in clients. Where are you going to find another wife like her?"

Everyone tried to calm me down, pushing me toward reconciliation.

But I looked at Ginny, my face cold. "We really can't go on. Let's just end it."

The crowd erupted, shouting me down.

Some called me heartless, while others said I was throwing away a peaceful life.

Right there, Ginny, tears slipping down her face, looked fragile and pitiful.

"Honey, I promise I won't nurse her son anymore," she begged. "Please don't divorce me."

She stepped close, wrapping her soft arm around mine, her voice dropping to a whisper. "To make it up to you, I'll give you the extra milk, okay?"

Revulsion twisted in my gut.

I pushed her back and said in disgust, Can you stop pretending?"

Ginny fell hard to her knees, still clutching our daughter, desperate and pleading. "Easton, nursing Hannah's baby isn't some unforgivable sin. I'll stop, I promise. Please forgive me, just this once."

"No."

Her sobs broke into sharp cries, her words nearly lost in the sound. "You hate it when I say I'll change, but please, just forgive me this time!"

The onlookers shook with anger at my refusal.

"Ginny, don't waste yourself on him," someone shouted. "A man who is that petty and heartless isn't worth your love!"

At that moment, my father pushed his way through the crowd, his face grim.

"Easton, Ginny has done more for this family than anyone. When your company was on the brink of bankruptcy and your mother was in the hospital with her heart condition, it was Ginny who paid the bills. She's been nothing but good to us. If you dare divorce her, I'll disown you as my son!"

"Dad, don't get involved," I said, forcing a smile.

Then I turned back to Ginny. "I'll give you one chance. Tell me, why did you nurse Hannah's child?"

The moment I asked, a flash of panic crossed Ginny's eyes, quickly masked by her usual composure.

"I already told you," she said firmly. "I have too much milk. After feeding our daughter, I still have extra, so I helped Hannah by nursing her son. If you don't like it, I won't do it anymore."

My father shot me a look of disgust, his eyes burning with judgment. "Listen to her, Easton. Ginny is thoughtful and kind. Where are you going to find another wife like this?"

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up. "Dad, it doesn't matter. I'm getting a divorce."

"You fool!" My father's hand slapped across my cheek, sharp and unexpected.

Heat flared immediately, half my face swelling with pain.

The crowd erupted, voices piling on top of each other.

"Beat him down!" someone shouted.

"Yeah! That's what a beast like him deserves!" another hollered, and the rest clapped and cheered.

Just then, Ginny rushed to my side.

"Easton, are you hurt?" Her voice trembled as she pulled out a bottle of ointment and reached up, dabbing lightly at my cheek.

"What a good wife," someone muttered, "and he doesn't even appreciate her."

I slapped her hand away, my patience gone. "Quit pretending you care."

Her face crumpled, her voice breaking. "Honey, please. I don't want a divorce. Our daughter needs her father."

"Begging won't work," I said, my words cold and final as I turned toward the door.

Behind me, my father's voice bellowed, heavy and full of finality. "If you go through with this divorce, I'll pretend I don't have a son like you!"

A sharp pain pierced my chest. It twisted inside me, gnawing at my heart.

'I'm already an adult, for Christ's sake,' I thought bitterly, 'yet here I am making him worry. But this is my marriage, not his. I have to handle it myself.'

"Ginny," I said, my voice hard, not turning back, "I'll have the divorce papers delivered to you."

I didn't look back as I walked out. My steps were quick, unyielding. Ginny's sobs echoed behind me, raw and heart-wrenching, each one twisting the knife deeper in my chest.

Back at the office, I gathered my files and immediately rang a lawyer mate to start the divorce proceedings.

Before I even had a chance to settle in, Ginny's messages started flooding my phone.

[Honey, what did I do wrong? Why are you divorcing me? Have you calmed down?]

[Our daughter and I need you. We're waiting for you at home.]

I checked into a hotel that night, hoping for some peace.

But Ginny's messages kept coming, each one more desperate than the last.

With a sneer, I blocked her and severed all communication channels.

...

The next morning, Ginny received the divorce papers I sent.

I didn't expect her to take it well. She tore the agreement to shreds.

Furious, Hannah took the matter online.

Within hours, my private life became public property. The backlash was immediate.

Netizens exploded in outrage, dragging me through the mud.

[Damn it, she's such a good wife. She didn't even take a dowry, helped him with his business, paid for his mother's surgery, and he still doesn't appreciate her?]

[His wife has plenty of milk, and he wants a divorce just because she didn't feed him?]

[He's definitely cheating. This is just an excuse to dump his wife!]

[I'm a mother of two. I know how painful engorgement is. My best friend couldn't nurse, so I fed her baby, too. My husband was supportive. This man? Trash.]

[Marrying a guy like him? What a disaster!]

Before I knew it, I was being torn apart online.

The attacks continued to escalate. My personal details were leaked. My parents' house was defaced with red paint, forcing them to escape to the countryside.

Even my company wasn't spared. People organized boycotts, demanding we go under.

My assistant hurried into my office, pale with worry. "Mr. Beckett, because of the divorce scandal, consumers are refusing to buy our products. The stock price is crashing. Clients are cancelling contracts, and our warehouses are backed up. The factory has had to halt production. If we don't act soon, I'm afraid the company—"

I dragged my hands through my hair in frustration. "I'll figure something out."

I immediately called Coraline Wayne, a lawyer I trusted, and asked her to meet me.

She arrived with a stack of documents. "Easton, the divorce lawsuit is scheduled for next Monday." She handed me the paperwork, then pulled out her phone and forwarded several videos to me.

Relief washed over me. "Thank you. Really, thank you."

She shook her head. "What are you thanking me for? If you hadn't jumped in that river to save me, I wouldn't even be here."