Page 185 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

In her eyes, I see surprise flicker—brief—then something else takes over.

Not panic.

Calculation. Fast. Brutal. As if she’s rewriting the script in real time.

“You’re wrong,” she says.

Her voice is low, steady. Too steady for someone blindsided like this.

“The dates are right. We slept together just before you left.”

She holds my gaze, already anchoring herself to the version she’s building.

“It was the night before you left. You were half asleep, that’s true… but you don’t forget something like that. You even told me you loved me before you fell asleep.”

This time, her voice trembles. Her eyes fill with tears.

“I remember… because it was the first time you said it.”

I can almost see her rewriting the story in real time.

A blend of truth and lies, perfectly measured to create doubt.

But she made a mistake.

“You’re lying.”

My voice is calm. Sharp.

“Even half asleep, I would never have said that. Because, Bianca… I never loved you. Not the way a man loves the woman of his life. I cared about you. I even felt tenderness for you. But it wasn’t love.”

Her expression finally falters.

“How can you be so cruel?” she whispers. “I love you. I gave you everything… and this is how you throw me away?”

“No.”

I don’t raise my voice.

“You don’t love anyone but yourself.”

Silence.

“This child deserves better than this.”

The doctor intervenes, uncomfortable:

“Please… stress isn’t good for the baby.”

Silence falls again, cold and tense.

Bianca doesn’t take her eyes off me.

Her jaw tightens.

But her gaze remains perfectly clear.

“Fine,” she says at last. “We’ll do a test when the baby is born, if that’s what you want.”