My Husband Wanted Me To Cheat And I Went To The Don. Chapter 04
Nancy was smarter than all the other girls. She never sent me provocative texts.
Never called to stake her claim with things like “He’s right here next to me.”
She just wore that innocent expression of I’m only here to join your family.
The moment I said anything harsh, Charles would feel she’d been horribly wronged.
I’d dealt with girls younger, prettier, more spirited than her.
But they were all too impatient—desperate for me to step aside.
Only Nancy. Never rushed, never made scenes, never fought, never grabbed. She got pregnant and moved in.
She accomplished what every predecessor had failed to do.
At 1:50 in the afternoon, I stood outside the courthouse and made my ninth call to Charles.
His voice on the other end was casual: “I’m with Nancy at her prenatal checkup. Can’t get away. Wait for me—I’ll come when I’m done.”
“I said we have a two o’clock appointment for the divorce.”
He spoke like he was soothing an unreasonable child: “Let Nancy finish her appointment first. Bye-bye.”
More waiting. I watched the people coming and going in the lobby—couples there to divorce.
Some with eyes cried raw, others expressionless. I’d cried like that before too, torn myself apart.
And in the end, his moment of softness would “reward” me with not divorcing. But today, the reward I wanted wasn’t that.
I found my lawyer’s number and sent a message:
[File for litigation divorce. I’ll send the documents this afternoon.]
That evening, Charles’s father called me several times. I decided to go see him anyway.
On the way, I kept thinking about how to explain that we were getting divorced.
Tell him his son’s mistress was pregnant? That he’d forced me into it?
“Where’s Charles?”
“He’s busy,” I said.
He slammed his cup down on the table, voice full of fury.
“What could possibly be more important than his own wife?”
Charles’s father and my father had a deep bond—they’d risked their lives together in their younger years.
He’d always wanted to unite the two families through marriage, but Charles’s mother refused.
She thought I wasn’t good enough for Charles—the family heir.
It was Charles who insisted on being with me.
Kneeling in the rain outside the estate for a full day and night until he collapsed, burning with fever for three days.
He knelt in the rain and said: “I don’t have to be with Silvia. I only ask that she’s well.”
When I found out, I cried for hours. Between us, he was always the one charging forward while I hid behind him, too insecure.
After that, I took his hand and said: “I’m done hiding. If you want to marry me, I’ll dare to say yes.”
Charles’s father was overjoyed. He transferred a third of his assets to me as a dowry.
Back then I thought the biggest obstacle was Charles’s mother.
Now I understood—outsiders were never the real threat to a relationship.
The door opened. Charles walked in with his arm around Nancy. He froze when he saw me.
Charles’s father’s face darkened. “You bastard! Bringing just anyone into this house?”
Charles sat down with Nancy, his tone breezy. “Dad, it’s just dinner. Is it really that serious?”
Then he glanced at me. “Silvia, head home first.”
Seeming to feel an explanation was needed, he leaned over and added quietly:
“I didn’t think you’d be here—that’s the only reason I brought her. Today’s her day, don’t make a scene.”
I used to think Nancy was just a fling to him—that once the novelty wore off, he’d move on.
Apparently not. They weren’t even divorced yet and he was bringing his mistress to the family home.
Charles’s mother came downstairs, her gaze sweeping over my face before landing on Nancy.
“So this is the pregnant mistress you’ve been keeping outside? You always drag home such lowly creatures.”
One sentence, two people insulted. In the past, Charles would’ve stood in front of me and said: “Silvia is the person I love.”
But today he frowned and pulled Nancy close. “Mother, my woman is not yours to bully.”
His tone was harder than it had ever been when defending me.
Nancy nestled in his arms with red-rimmed eyes—forever looking like the whole world was persecuting her.
Unlike me, who took insults with an unbothered, steely face.
I stood up, uninterested. “I’m leaving.”
Charles’s father couldn’t make me stay.
Charles didn’t have time to look at me.
I realized I didn’t feel pain anymore. I would no longer have any more emotions because of Charles.
The moment I stepped through the door, I suddenly remembered that night.
However moved I’d been then—that was exactly how hopeless his transformation made me afterward.
He’d knelt in the rain and said, “I don’t have to be with Silvia. I only ask that she’s well.”
This time, I would grant his wish.
The divorce went more smoothly than I’d imagined.
Charles probably figured that once Nancy had the baby, we’d remarry, and everything would go back to the way it was.
On the day of the hearing, he showed up late but was perfectly cooperative—gave me every cent I was owed.
Afterward, he even came to find me outside the courthouse, looking genuinely happy.
“Haven’t you always wanted a proper wedding?”
“When we remarry, I’ll plan it myself. The island you love, the white dress you love, everything you love—it’s all yours.”
I looked up at him. “Charles, that won’t be necessary.”
He froze, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “What do you mean?”