My Husband's Old Flame Gave Me My Daughter, Then Stole My Son

My picturesque New England life shattered the moment the school nurse called. Lily, my bright, artistic daughter, AB-positive? Impossible. I'm O-negative.

The doctor's genetics lesson was a punch to the gut: Lily couldn't be mine.

Then, the real earthquake hit. Overhearing Grant, my devoted husband, revealed a sinister conspiracy. Bea Baker, his old flame, was back, and Lily was her daughter through a twisted surrogacy plot. Grant was secretly bankrolling her silence.

The betrayal deepened. He'd been drugging me, keeping me from conceiving. My 'perfect' life was a lie, meticulously crafted by a man I barely knew. He'd even developed Bea's family farm into a soulless mall, crushing her family in the process.

Fury and disgust warred within me. Bea knew too much about my 'miscarriage.' She hinted at Northwood Pharma, experimental testing and my stolen baby used for science. Grant's face, smiling, taunting, haunted me.

He was meeting Bea tomorrow. The affair was current, not just old history. He wants her to live with us! This charade ends now. My quest for truth had just begun. How deep does this rabbit hole go? And what happened to my own baby? Retribution is coming.

1

The digital clock on the school nurse's desk showed 3:15 PM.

Dr. Peterson, the pediatrician from town, looked at Eleanor Vance. His face was serious.

"Eleanor, I need to discuss Lily's blood test results with you."

Eleanor sat straighter. "Is something wrong? Is Lily okay?"

"Lily is healthy. That's not the issue." He paused. "The blood type on her school records is O-negative. We re-tested today during the health screening. Lily is AB-positive."

Eleanor frowned. "There must be a mistake. I'm O-negative. Grant, my husband, is A-positive."

Dr. Peterson met her eyes. "Eleanor, two O-negative parents cannot have an AB-positive child. And an O-negative mother and an A-positive father, if he's heterozygous AO, could have A or O. If he's homozygous AA, they could only have A. Neither can result in an AB child if the mother is O."

The clinical words hung in the air.

Eleanor's breath caught. The room felt cold. "What are you saying?"

"Based on basic genetics, Lily cannot be your biological daughter if your blood type is O-negative."

Shock hit Eleanor. A wave of dizziness made her grip the armrests. Her world tilted. Disbelief was a tight knot in her chest. This was impossible. Lily was her daughter. She remembered the adoption process, yes, but this was a different kind of wrongness. The adoption papers said Lily was her biological child, a private arrangement.

What did this mean?

Eleanor drove home. Her hands shook on the steering wheel.

The doctor's words echoed. Cannot be your biological daughter.

A horn blared. She swerved, narrowly missing a delivery truck. Her heart hammered.

Anxiety coiled in her stomach. Confusion clouded her thoughts. This secret, this lie, felt dangerous.

She thought of Lily, her bright, artistic Lily. Her daughter.

This news could destroy everything.

She reached her street, the picturesque New England lane. Her house looked perfect, just like her life was supposed to be.

But now, a crack had appeared.

She parked the car, her body heavy with a new, terrible vulnerability. She needed to talk to Grant. He would explain. There had to be an explanation.

She walked into the house. Grant's voice came from his study. He was on a call.

"Yes, Bea's flight gets in tomorrow. I've arranged the usual suite at The Willows."

Eleanor froze. Bea Baker. Grant's old college girlfriend. Why was Bea coming here?

Grant's voice continued, low and conspiratorial. "The quarterly payments are up to date for her foundation. Consider it an ongoing educational grant, for services rendered... and silence maintained."

Betrayal, sharp and cold, pierced Eleanor. Anger followed, hot and quick. Her heart ached.

Grant was talking to his business partner, Marcus Thorne.

"Eleanor still thinks losing the Baker farm was just bad luck for them. She has no idea my development a_nd_ Bea's... cooperation... were linked."

The room spun. Bea's family farm. Developed by Grant into that soulless shopping mall years ago.

Grant continued, oblivious to Eleanor's presence.

"And the other matter... the pills. Marcus, you still have a reliable source for those, right? The custom ones?"

Marcus's muffled voice replied.

Grant chuckled. "Good. Eleanor still thinks she just can't conceive again. Simpler that way. Keeps things stable with Lily."

Disgust washed over Eleanor. Birth control pills. Secretly given to her.

Violation. Powerlessness. Grant had been drugging her.

The betrayal deepened, cutting off her breath. Her perfect life was a meticulously crafted lie, and Grant was the architect. His public persona, the devoted husband, was a mask. This man, her husband, was cold. Uncaring.

Grant ended his call and walked out of the study. He saw Eleanor standing there.

He smiled, his usual charming smile. "Ellie, hi. You're home early."

He moved to kiss her. Eleanor flinched, stepping back.

His smile faltered. "What's wrong?" He feigned innocence, his eyes full of false affection.

Eleanor's mind raced. Confusion warred with distrust. Resentment simmered.

"Who were you talking to about birth control pills, Grant?" Her voice was quiet, tight.

Grant looked surprised, then his expression smoothed. "Birth control? Oh, Marcus was asking about some new pharmaceutical stock. Just business, honey."

He tried to put his arm around her. "You look pale. Are you okay?"

His charm felt suffocating. She struggled to reconcile the man she thought she knew with the monster she'd just overheard.

Grant's phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. A different kind of smile touched his lips, secretive and quick.

"Excuse me, I have to take this." He stepped back into the study, lowering his voice.

But Eleanor heard it. "Bea? Yes, I was just confirming everything. Can't wait to see you."

Bea. Confirmation. The affair wasn't just old history. It was current.

Anger burned through Eleanor. Resolve began to form. This charade was over.

He was meeting Bea. Tomorrow.

Eleanor walked to her laptop. Her fingers trembled as she typed Bea Baker's name into the search bar.

Social media profiles bloomed on the screen. Beatrice "Bea" Baker, environmental lawyer. Photos of her in exotic locations, at conferences, looking driven and successful.

Then, older photos. College days. Bea and Grant, arms around each other, smiling. So much love in their eyes.

Jealousy, hot and bitter, mixed with resentment.

There were recent, discreetly tagged photos too. Bea at a conference Grant had supposedly attended alone. Bea in a restaurant in Boston that Grant claimed he visited for a solo business dinner.

Determination hardened Eleanor's gaze. She wouldn't be a fool any longer. Her quest for truth had just begun. This was not just about Lily's parentage. This was about Grant's entire web of lies.

Eleanor saw a framed photo on Grant's desk. It was from their one-year anniversary. Grant and her, smiling. A lie.

Beside it, almost hidden, was a small, older silver frame. A picture of Grant and Bea from college, laughing. He'd kept it all these years.

Rage, pure and sharp, surged through Eleanor.

She picked up the photo of Bea. She stared at the smiling face, the woman who was a ghost in her marriage, now a flesh-and-blood threat.

With a sudden, fierce movement, Eleanor tore the photo from the frame. She ripped it into tiny pieces, her breath coming in short gasps.

The act was small, symbolic. Defiance. A rejection of Grant's lies.

A small shred of liberation fluttered within her. This was the first step.

Eleanor picked up her phone. She dialed Aggie's number. Her younger sister. Her rock.

Aggie answered on the second ring, her voice warm and familiar. "Hey, El! What's up?"

"Aggie," Eleanor's voice was shaky. "Can I come over? Or can you come here? Something's happened."

Hope flickered. Uncertainty gnawed at her. She needed Aggie.

"Are you okay? You sound... weird."

"I... I think my life is about to change. Drastically." Eleanor managed.

There was a pause. "I'm on my way." Aggie's voice was firm, instantly supportive.

Eleanor hung up. She looked around the beautiful living room, a stage for a fake life.

Resolve solidified within her. Determination burned away some of the fear.

She would leave Grant.

She would find out the complete truth about Lily.

And she would find out what happened to her own ability to conceive another child.

The journey would be painful, but she wouldn't live this lie another day.

The secrets were coming out. And then, retribution.