Slowly Capture His Heart

The day I discovered Leones Edwards was cheating, I was in the middle of bathing our five-month-old daughter, Chloe Edwards.

My phone, which I had left in the bedroom, was ringing incessantly. I hurried to answer it, but when I saw an unfamiliar number, I hesitated. Just then, Chloe began to cry, so I hung up and rushed back to the bathroom.

When I returned, the call had ended, and a text message was waiting for me.

Holding Chloe in my arms, I opened the message and nearly dropped her.

My hands were shaking as I looked at my phone.

Dozens of explicit photos were displayed in the message.

The man in each photo was the same, but the women were different: college students, married women—every type imaginable.

Overwhelmed by a surge of panic and dizziness, I grabbed a chair to steady myself.

I could hardly believe that the person I trusted was capable of such filth.

The pain was so intense I could barely breathe.

Just then, my phone lit up again. I jumped and answered quickly before the call could ring through.

"Hello, Ms. Edwards. You saw those photos, didn't you?" a woman's voice chirped from the other end.

Her voice was sweet and almost melodic, reminiscent of a nightingale.

I tried to keep my composure, aiming to come across as a calm, unshakeable person.

But her next words broke me.

"Ms. Edwards, I have HPV. Your husband is the source of the infection."

The shock was like an explosion in my brain.

HPV? My husband has HPV and has spread it to others?

I didn't have time to dwell on the specifics of her relationship with my husband.

My mind was consumed with thoughts of my two children.

How long has Leones had HPV? And could Chloe and Victor be affected, too?

The terrifying possibility made my head spin once more.

I fought to hold back tears and asked, "How long has Leones had HPV? How long have you two been seeing each other?"

There was a pause before she replied, "I met your husband last Valentine's Day. The doctor says I've been infected for about a year and a half. It's all your husband's fault!

"Oh, and Ms. Edwards, you should take your kids for a checkup right away!"

I didn't respond, ending the call and sinking onto the sofa in shock.

Chloe's cries brought me back to reality. I wiped my tears and hurried to her side.

After a quick check, I changed her diaper and dressed her.

But as I was fastening her pants, I noticed a small, raised red spot on her inner thigh.

At that moment, I lost it.

I stuffed baby supplies into a bag, grabbed the diaper bag, and rushed to the underground garage with Chloe in my arms.

I sped to the hospital, driving recklessly, losing track of how many patrol cars I passed.

The doctor was shocked when I requested an HPV test for a five-month-old baby. She looked at me with a mix of suspicion and pity, clearly thinking I led a chaotic life.

I tried to explain as best I could, and after hearing my story, her eyes softened with sympathy.

She offered us a VIP fast-track service to expedite the test results.

In the waiting area, I paced anxiously with Chloe in my arms, walking countless laps.

Then, three uniformed police officers arrived.

I knew they were here for me.

After I finished explaining my situation, the officers were deeply sympathetic, but the law was unforgiving, and I had to go with them.

However, they allowed me to see the results of Chloe's tests before heading to the police station.

With the officers accompanying me, my anxiety eased somewhat.

Soon, the test results came back, and the report showed Chloe was negative.

Chloe was fine, and there was a very good chance Victor was too.

Since they were twins, if one was clear, the other was likely in the clear as well.

My heart immediately relaxed, and the heavy burden was lifted. Before I could even dry my tears, another test result was handed to me.

[HPV Test

Name: Rebecca Watz

Result: Positive]

At that moment, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

I struggled to contain the turmoil inside me as I followed the officers back to the station.

By the time everything was sorted out, the sun was setting.

Naturally, my car was impounded, so I took a taxi home with Chloe.

The ten-minute ride felt like an eternity as I checked my phone obsessively.

No new messages came.