I’m Pregnant By A Married Man — But His Wife Taught Me A Lesson I’ll Never Forget

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Not even knowing who I was apologizing to.

The wife—her name was Selina—nodded slightly. “I figured you didn’t know about the kids,” she said, her voice calm but tired. “But now you do. So what are you going to do?”

I didn’t know what to say. I’d never been face to face with someone I’d hurt before. Not like this.

I met him—Marc—nine months ago. At a bookstore of all places. He was charming, intelligent, and kind. He talked about books like they were magic. And he looked at me like I was the most fascinating page he’d ever read.

I didn’t know he was married—not for the first two months. When I found out, I confronted him, angry. Hurt. He cried. Said he never meant for this to happen, but that his marriage was over. That he’d been miserable for years.

And I believed him.

I didn’t want to be “the other woman.” I really didn’t. But he made me feel like I was the only real thing in his life. Like I was his peace.

When I found out I was pregnant, he was surprised but told me it was a “blessing.” He said he’d finally do what he’d been putting off—leave Selina. Start fresh.

But that was two months ago. And he hadn’t done a thing.

He still came to me in secret. Still wore his ring. Still gave me promises that always had a “soon” attached.

Last night changed everything.

After the little girl’s question, Selina stood and gestured for the kids to go wait by the car. They listened. Even the teen, who didn’t say a word.

Then it was just the two of us. Silence stretched between us like a wound.

“I’m not here to fight,” she said. “I’ve been angry. I’ve screamed. I’ve cried. But I’m done with that.”

I nodded. My hands were shaking.\

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