Sorry, Major Hubby, Your Nanny Wife Has Secrets Too novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

After five years working as a nanny. I’d finally saved enough for my son’s heart surgery.

I rushed back overnight, hoping to surprise them both.

Instead, I found Dr. Mitchell from the private hospital paying a personal visit, his smile fawning:

“Major Montgomery, Ms. Evans mentioned she’ll have the funds ready in a few days. Do you still need us to falsify the medical records?”

Alexander waved dismissively, his expression indifferent:

“No need. I appreciate the hospital’s help. I’ll make sure you’re first in line for any future military contracts. Lydia’s been through a lot these past few years–last month her back flared up from all the childcare, and she wouldn’t even get herself a pain patch.”

My bestie Isabella Crawford suddenly appeared, her voice gentle and measured:

“Alexander, we need to be more careful here. You’re a U.S. Army Major–your position is sensitive. We have to see if she’s the type who chases power and money.”

“Leo needs time to adjust too.”

Six–year–old Leo was sitting on Isabella’s lap. At her words, he immediately frowned:

“I don’t want her as my mom. She smells like grease and cooking all the time. I like Aunt Isabella better.”

Alexander hesitated for a moment, glancing at the cozy scene between them, then said slowly.

“Alright… let’s observe for another six months”

I threw the silver cross necklace I’d bought for my son into the trash.

No need to observe any longer.

These five years of hard–earned money from caring for other people’s children–consider it charity work for the Montgomery family.

From now on, the Army Major and the Montgomery’s heir have nothing to do with me.

The hospital’s payment reminder call came right on schedule.

“Ms. Evans, your son’s surgery still needs another hundred and fifty thousand. Please come in and pay as soon as possible.”

I replied calmly: “Got it.”

There was a pause on the other end, clearly thrown off by my tone. “The deadline is the day after tomorrow–no extensions this time. We’ve already prepared all the medications.”

I couldn’t bring myself to beg for more time, not after six years of pleading countless times in that same loumble voice.

Surgery fee? Medications ready?

It all those medical records were fake, how much of his condition was even real?

Since this whole thing was just a test from the start, why bother asking me for that hundred and fifty grand?

A familiar voice came from behind me. “Lydia, what are you doing back so suddenly? You didn’t even call.”

When Alexander opened the door and saw me, there was a flash of panic in his eyes.

“Just came to see Leo,”

“Next time remember to call ahead so I can pick you up.”

I nodded obediently.

But there wouldn’t be a next time.

Following him inside, the excitement I used to feel about seeing my son had turned into the calm that comes with knowing the truth.

The hospital room door wasn’t fully closed, and I could hear laughter inside.

Leo was sitting on Isabella’s lap, holding a piece of cake, his eyes crinkled with joy.

Isabella was wiping cream from the corner of his mouth, the gesture intimate like a real mother and son.

Hearing footsteps, they both looked over.

The smile froze on Leo’s face instantly, and he muttered under his breath: “Why is she here?”

Hearing those words from the son I hadn’t seen in so long. I didn’t rush to hug him like I used to.

Before, he never liked talking to me, and I thought it was because of his illness.

I swore to myself I’d cure him, working ten, fifteen nanny jobs a day just to earn a few more dollars.

But instead of gratitude, all I got was his disgust.

Seeing that I didn’t come closer, Leo unconsciously relaxed.

He was still too young to hide his true feelings.

I gripped my faded canvas bag tighter, pretending not to notice.

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und The Sarruts Ton!

But the disappointment felt like a thousand pounds, crushing me until I could barely maintain my smile.

“Leo, say hi to mommy.”

“I won’t!” Lea buried his face in Isabella’s arms. “She smells weird. I don’t like her.”

Isabella laughed it off, but her eyes held a challenge:

“Kids don’t know any better, Lydia–don’t take it personally. Leo’s been asking about you all the time, he’s just… a little shy around strangers.”

Shy around strangers? We’d just seen each other ten days ago.

I could no longer convince myself this was just childish innocence.

Working as a nanny meant being on the road day and night–I couldn’t stay by my child’s side.

Isabella volunteered to help watch him, and I was beyond grateful.

I even promised to make her his godmother.

To save for Leo’s surgery. I took the toughest jobs.

No matter how demanding the families were, I could handle it alone. Even when my spine got twisted, I’d just slap on a pain patch and keep going.

I always thought that once Leo got better, he’d understand how hard his mom worked.

But now I realized he’d been treasured by someone else all along, forgetting about his real mom who supposedly

“smells like grease,”

Just then, Isabella “accidentally knocked over the fruit bowl while reaching for something, sending fruit rolling everywhere.

She just called out softly “Alexander,” and he was already bending down to pick them up.

The silent understanding between them was like a sheet of glass, separating me from this “family.”

I bit my lip hard to stay calm, tasting the metallic tang of blood.

Watching them look like a perfect family of three, I just said quietly:

“It’s getting late. I should head back.”

Alexander insisted on walking me out. Always perceptive, he asked:

“Why were you so cold to Leo today?”

I explained softly: “I’m exhausted from rushing back overnight. Plus I probably smell like work–better to keep my

D– Cat Tonk

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Chapter 1

distance from him.”

At that, his brow furrowed slightly: “Then go home and get some rest. You look rough–make sure to shower before

you sleep.

Slow as I was. I finally saw the undisguised disgust in his eyes.

It had been so obvious, yet I’d mistaken it for concern every single time, even finding it sweet.

Alexander added one more thing: “And next time, be nicer to Isabella. She’s been helping with Leo for so long.”

“Don’t give her attitude like you did today…”

I stood there stunned. His favoritism completely crushed my last bit of hesitation.

My gaze fell on his wrist. “Alexander, why aren’t you wearing the beaded bracelet I gave you?”

“The chain broke. Sent them out to get fixed.”

Still lying.

When I threw away that cross necklace, I clearly saw those beaded bracelet at the bottom of the trash can.

Guess they were too cheap for him. Not just the beaded bracelet–me too.

Maybe seeing my eyes well up, he hugged me with a hint of regret: “I was too harsh just now. Sorry.”

I fought back tears and gently pushed him away: “It’s fine. I’m leaving.”

Alexander looked at me with confusion, as if wondering why I wasn’t clinging to him for hand–holding and hugs like usual, or rattling on about my work troubles.

He could only chalk it up to exhaustion.

Five minutes later, after making sure I was gone, I heard the sound of father and son high–fiving in the hospital room:

“Dad, we totally fooled her again!”

“Aunt Isabella, I want you and daddy to sleep with me tonight!”

As my son’s voice faded, a sharp pain shot through my back–worn down by six years of lifting and carrying–and spread through my entire body.

Through that door, I crouched on the ground as tears fell silently onto the floor.

I pulled out a number I hadn’t contacted in ages and sent a message:

The reply came instantly: “Send me the info.”

“Need you to look someone up.”

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Chapter 1

After a pause, my friend called back: Tylla, there’s no record of a ‘Alexander Brooks.”

“That social security number belongs to someone else Alexander Montgomery.”

I silently repeated the namie, feeling like I was enduring the ultimate humiliation.

My friend sent over detailed records of his entire life–the youngest Major in the US Army, decorated with countless honors, born into privilege.

No wonder Dr. Mitchell called him “Major Montgomery” so naturally–that was his real name.

So the feelings were fake, the name was fake, and even that marriage certificate was probably fake too.

Only this deception was real.

My friend asked when I was coming back: “I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

I sent over my flight info for the day after tomorrow.

Back at my place. I dug out the property deed.

When Alexander and I got our marriage license, he insisted on putting only my name on the house.

He said the house was my greatest security as a married woman.

I was stupid enough to think I’d found true love, ignoring my family’s objections, even fighting with my parents.

Even when working as a nanny meant being looked down on, I endured six years of it for my son’s medical bills, thinking it was all worth it.

Now I finally understood–Alexander never wanted this house anyway.

An eighty–square–meter dump in an old building, far below what a Major like him deserves.