Cheating Wife Opened Marriage, Got Pregnant & Demanded I Sign Birth Certificate, But I Got Revenge

She wasn’t robbing you. She was just taking stuff she deserved. Honestly, Dad, you’ve always controlled everything. Mom told me how you hold the house over her head since it’s your mother’s property, how you keep your finances separate, how you criticize her spending I barked a laugh. Oh, did she also tell you how I pay all the bills on time? Or how I spent thousands on your extracurriculars while I wore the same goddamn work boots for 3 years? She pressed her lips together.

Still, Mom deserves to be with who she loves. I stared, the rage throbbing in my veins. This was my own kid I was basically worthless to her mother. I forced a smile, something sharp and bitter. Fine, I said. If she’s so in love, she can have him. You can have them both. Judy’s eyes narrowed. What does that even mean? I stood abruptly, heading to the liquor cabinet.

It means, I said, pulling out a bottle of whiskey, that nobody in this goddamn family gave a damn about me. So, I don’t see any reason to keep playing loving husband or doting father. I poured a measure and downed it in a harsh gulp. From now on, I’m doing things my way. She watched me warily. What are you going to do? I slammed the glass down, the whiskey scorching my throat.

Exactly what any wise man would do after being screwed over. I’m going to protect my assets, cut out the dead weight, and watch as you all sink or swim on your own. She stared, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. That’s That’s cold, Dad. Is it? I snapped. You didn’t mind being cold toward me when you basically told me mom was right to ditch me.

Judy stood, arms folding protectively across her chest. Look, I’m just telling you how I see it. Mom found someone she loves. She says you two were never in love, that you just stuck around for convenience. She shrugged again. She wants real happiness. Who am I to stop that? I glared, the heat rising in me again.

“Fine.” I ground out, turning away. “Then go with her. Be Walter’s perfect stepdaughter. I don’t give a crap. I’m done playing nice.” She watched me for another moment, uncertain. Then she stormed off to her room. I heard the door slam. I stood there, breathing heavily, feeling an odd mixture of fury and heartbreak.

The entire world as I knew it had just crumbled in a single afternoon. That night, I barely slept. By the next morning, I had hatched a plan. I left early to see my divorce lawyer, a sharp bastard named Ron Jeremy. An odd name, but the man was lethal in court. He grinned when I told him the situation. “She tried to take your furniture without filing for divorce? She’s screwing some side guy? This will be child’s play.

” He said with a sleazy smile. I leaned forward. “I want the process expedited. Cutthroat. I don’t want to pay her a dime more than the law demands. If she thinks she deserves better, let her new boyfriend buy it for her.” He nodded and jotted some notes. “What about custody?” My mouth twisted. “Give her full custody of Judy.

The kid’s basically chosen her side anyway.” Ron’s eyebrows rose. “Are you sure? Judges usually like at least partial custody.” “No.” I snapped. “She wants her mom. Let her have her. I’ll pay child support until Judy turns 18, but that’s it. No father-daughter bonding bull crap. She’s made it clear she doesn’t appreciate me.” My fist clenched on top of his polished desk.

“If Kayla or that Walter can’t handle her, that’s their problem. Ron shrugged, scribbling away. All right, but be aware it can get messy. Judges don’t always like it when dads walk away from custody. I gave a low laugh. I’m past caring about what a judge likes. Let’s get it done. He nodded, then tapped a pen on the stack of forms.

This might go fast or it might get dragged out. Depends on Kayla’s reaction. It’ll go fast, I said coldly. Because Kayla won’t have a leg to stand on. I left the office and headed straight to the bank. Emptied the joint account. I left exactly $2 to prove a point. She’d contributed nothing more than that as far as I was concerned.

Then I marched over to HR at the factory, took her off my insurance and pension beneficiary list. With each signature I felt a twisted sense of triumph. A cold, brutal satisfaction coursed through me. She wanted to leave me? Fine. Leave with nothing. Two days later Kayla was served with divorce papers at her office.

By the time she called me, her voice was shaking with rage. “Aaron, how dare you?” she shrilled as soon as I answered. I leaned back in my desk chair at work. Dare what? Dare to protect what’s mine? “You emptied the account. You took my name off your insurance.” She was practically hyperventilating. “Your name,” I replied slowly, “didn’t belong on anything of mine.

” “You’re out of your mind if you think I won’t get half of everything in court,” she spat. “That’s how marriage law works, genius.” I smirked at the phone. “We make almost exactly the same salary, Kayla. I don’t get alimony from you, you don’t get alimony from me. Your attempt at stealing the furniture is on record with the police.

You want half my retirement? Then I get half yours. Did you think about that?” She went silent, probably replaying all those documents. Then came the furious, “This isn’t fair. I was your wife. You owe me.” I snorted. “Walter can pay what I supposedly owe you.” Her breath turned ragged. “Aaron, you bastard.” But I’d had enough.

I hung up, grinning. She was going to realize soon that I held every card. The day in court was electric. Kayla arrived with her lawyer, Lana Rhodes, who tried to put on the usual show. My client deserves half of every asset, your honor. She’s been the spouse for 17 years. Ron, calm as ever, stepped up. Your honor, the spouse in question tried to take half the furniture without permission.

She refused to let my client have half of her 401k or savings. So, if we’re splitting everything, it goes both ways. The judge stared down at Kayla with a sour expression. Ma’am, do you have any reason to believe you should receive alimony? Lana babbled something about Kayla’s contributions, her role as a mother, but Ron shut her down by pointing out Kayla’s job, her salary, and the police report from the day she tried to empty the house with no divorce filing.

Then came the custody discussion. Lana said, We want the child to remain with Mrs. Taylor. Ron responded, “Actually, my client is prepared to cede full custody. He only wants to pay standard child support, nothing more.” That part stunned Kayla. Even from across the courtroom, I could see her eyes widen.

Judy was there, too, perched anxiously. She looked at me with tears brimming. Dad, you You’re just letting me go? I refused to turn my head. Part of me felt a pang of guilt, but I’d committed to this path. Yes, I said, voice stiff. That’s what you and your mom wanted, right? Judy gasped, tears rolling down her cheeks. Dad, I I The judge asked if she wanted to speak.

She stepped forward, voice trembling, and tried to say she didn’t realize how serious this would be, that she was sorry, that she’d only wanted her mom to be happy, not to lose her dad completely. Then Ron gave her a harsh line of questioning, basically forcing her to admit she’d never cared about my feelings.

She ended up sobbing, “I’m sorry, Dad. Please, don’t leave me.” But I’d made my choice. The judge, exasperated by all the drama, ended up granting the divorce almost immediately. He gave Kayla no spousal support because we both earned similar salaries. He told me I had to pay child support for Judy until she turned 18. That was it.

Bang the gavel, done. Outside the courtroom, Judy was practically hysterical. Kayla refused to even look at me, her face white with anger and confusion. Walter was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, he hadn’t bothered showing up to support her. That gave me a grim thrill. I walked out without a word. Judy called after me, but I kept going.

The heartbreak in her voice sent a stab through my gut, but I reminded myself she’d made her bed. Now she could lie in it. Weeks went by. My mother, Brenda Taylor, ended up taking Judy in when Kayla decided she couldn’t handle a teenager full-time. Kayla was too occupied running around with Walter or working or who knows what.

I’d see Judy now and then, but I kept my distance, staying cold. She cried, “Dad, please. Can I come live with you again?” But I refused. I wanted her to get a taste of what it felt like to be pushed aside. Harsh? Yes. But sometimes you got to burn bridges to stand on solid ground. Then, one day, Judy burst into my house, tears streaming, and informed me that Walter had beaten Kayla so badly she’d ended up in the hospital.

He was in jail now, charged with assault. I actually gave a bitter laugh at the news. “Didn’t expect that, but I’m not surprised,” I said. “I lived with your mother for 17 years. She can drive anyone up the wall.” Judy stared at me, shocked that I’d react so callously. I shrugged. “Sorry, kid, but I don’t have any sympathy to spare.

” For a while, that was the end of it. Kayla slowly recovered, but I didn’t go visit her. I heard bits and pieces from Judy. She told me Kayla ended up leaving the hospital in rough shape, physically and emotionally. Walter’s bail hearing kept him locked up, or so rumor said. I wanted to feel bad for Kayla, but mostly I felt a grim satisfaction that her dream romance had turned into a nightmare.

” Months passed. I rebuilt my life with an almost ruthless focus. I started dating someone from work named Sharon, a no-nonsense woman who enjoyed my sharper edges. We went out for drinks, had a good time, kept things casual. Meanwhile, Kayla drifted in and out of Judy’s life, apologizing for the damage, trying to salvage some normalcy.

Judy was stuck at my mother’s house, resentful at both parents, but she didn’t push too hard to move in with Kayla. Everyone had a tense, broken dynamic. Then, early one morning, a pounding on my front door broke the silence. It was barely 7:00 a.m. I stumbled out of bed, still half asleep, hair a mess. I yanked the door open, already ready to curse whoever was messing with me so early.

There stood Judy and Kayla on my porch. Judy had tears in her eyes. Kayla looked pale, exhausted, her hair unkempt. She avoided my gaze at first. Judy blurted, “Dad, we need to talk.” I frowned. “Seriously, it’s barely daylight. What’s your problem now?” Kayla’s voice was shaky. “Let’s just say we’re in trouble.

” I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the door frame. “Trouble? With what? You got another boyfriend who wants to kill you?” She swallowed. “Walter’s in jail, but I’m pregnant.” That froze me. “What?” I hissed. My eyes flicked to Judy. She nodded miserably, as if confirming her mother’s statement. “Pregnant? How the hell do you know it’s Walter’s?” Kayla wiped her damp eyes.

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. It might be yours, too, because you and I Well, remember a few months before all this, we had that that one stupid night. But I also slept with Walter around the same time, so I don’t know who the father is.” My head spun. We’d had an awkward, drunk night near the tail end of our relationship, but I hadn’t thought it was even possible.

I felt anger coil in my gut. “You come here at 7:00 in the morning to spring this on me? Judy reached out to grab my arm. Dad, please, Mom’s in real danger. Walter’s not stable, and if he finds out she’s pregnant, it could get worse. She’s terrified. Kayla’s face twisted with regret. I I know I hurt you, she said softly.