When Your Cheating Husband's Dream Become Your Divorce Evidence novel Chapter 75

Chapter 1

Jake Ashford and I were the poorest couple in Millfield, Montana.

He couldn’t walk right, his parents were sick all the time, and our baby boy died from a fever we couldn’t afford to treat.

When the flood hit, I strapped Jake to my back and started hauling ass up the mountain.

His mom was screaming behind us: “Clara, leave his ass! Save yourself, honey!”

I gritted my teeth and didn’t let go.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take another step, Jake suddenly moved,

He untied himself and stood up in the water like nothing happened.

That’s when a helicopter dropped out of the sky.

His “sick” parents ran up to it like they were in the Olympics or some shit.

Jake reached out his hand, casual as hell:

“Congrats, babe. You passed the test. Get in–our son’s waiting.”

After he said that, I nearly face–planted.

My son… wasn’t he supposed to be dead?

I just stared at this asshole. Ten years I’d been sleeping next to him, and turns out I didn’t know shit about who he really was.

Under that soaked, raggedy shirt were real fucking muscles.

His face had this cold look I’d never seen before.

My throat felt like I’d been eating glass: “What test?”

“Ashford women gotta prove they won’t bail when shit gets tough. Gotta be loyal, you know?”

He didn’t even try to explain, just grabbed my arm. “You did great, babe. Grandpa’s pumped.”

Ashford? Grandpa?

That hit me like a freight train.

He dragged me onto the helicopter.

As doors slammed shut, I watched our shitty little trailer disappear under all that water.

Inside, his “parents” went from freaking out to looking all… respect? Total 180.

They nodded at me: “Mrs. Ashford.”

Then they walked over to Jake and literally fucking bowed: “Mr. Ashford, mission complete.”

Jake waved them off and they sat in the corner like robots.

I was shaking like crazy, but not ‘cause I was cold.

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Chapter 1

“Who are they?” I asked Jake.

“Company employees. They’re pros.”

With that, he peeled off his wet jacket.

Underneath? Perfect dry shirt. Not one wrinkle.

Even his damn clothes were fake.

“So these ten years… all fake?” My voice was all fucked up. “Your leg, your parents being sick, us being broke… all of it was bullshit?”

“It’s a test.” He handed me coffee. “Clara, you should be stoked. You passed. No more living like white trash.”

Stoked?

I stared at this piece of shit.

Ten years. I broke my arm falling off cliffs looking for herbs for his “bad leg.”

Ten years. I worked three jobs till I was puking blood to buy medicine for his “dying parents.”

Ten years. I ate fucking ramen for months to save money.

Thought we were struggling together.

Turns out I was just his lab rat.

“My son…” I grabbed onto the only thing left. “Tommy, he’s really alive?

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