My Husband Believed Her Lies Until Our Son Died

Five years of marriage, and my husband’s childhood best friend, Chloe Bennett, ruled our lives. She called herself a "human lie detector," specializing in microexpressions.

With that fake title, she nailed me to the pillar of shame as a lying, unfaithful wife. At a party, I was just feeling sick to my stomach and gagged.

She immediately declared in front of everyone: "Look at how naturally Clara gags.

She must have had quite a few secret abortions before she met you, Ethan." Ethan Reynolds threw my hand off instantly, sneering, "Chloe has studied body language since she was a kid.

She’s never wrong." "You definitely had other men before me, didn’t you?" For the sake of our fouryearold son, Leo, I swallowed my pride and endured it.

Until Leo fell critically ill and was rushed into the ICU.

Clutching the doctor's critical condition notice, I stumbled into Ethan’s office, sobbing, begging him to transfer the money for the deposit.

But Chloe, sipping her coffee, just scoffed. "Ethan, she’s lying again!" "Look how hard she's crying, but her mascara isn't even smudged. That doctor's voice recording?

Probably fake, too." "Puhlease.

A cheap trick like that can’t get past my eyes." Hearing this, Ethan impatiently shoved me out of his office. "Using your own son's life to lie for money?

Clara, do you even have a soul?" Thinking of my dying son in the hospital, I took the divorce papers and went straight to Ethan's mother, Eleanor. "Give me two hundred thousand dollars, and I will sign these papers and leave Ethan immediately." Eleanor thought I was just throwing a tantrum.

She agreed and transferred the money instantly. But she had no idea that after getting this money, she would never see her grandson again. ......

I stared at the transfer notification on my phone, then looked up at Eleanor. "I received the money." Her expression was cold and indifferent. "Since you got it, sign the papers." I picked up the pen and signed my name without a second thought.

Eleanor looked at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Clara, you should have left a long time ago." "A dirty woman like you never deserved to marry into the Reynolds family." I let out a bitter laugh in my heart.

Ever since Chloe started showing off her "liedetecting" skills, my reputation had been dragged through the mud.

When I suffered severe postpartum hemorrhaging and had to visit the OBGYN multiple times for recovery, Chloe rumored that I had contracted an STD from cheating.

When I came home late after a business dinner with a client, she claimed I was keeping a boy toy behind Ethan’s back.

There was never any evidence, but Ethan believed her blindly, without question. For five years, I was the biggest laughingstock in our social circle.

I had screamed, cried, and tried to defend myself. "I am your wife!

Why do you believe her over me?" But Ethan would only watch my breakdowns with cold, calm eyes. "Chloe has a gift for reading people.

She’s never wrong." "As for you, you’re just mad because you got caught in your own lies." And now, when our son's life was on the line, he still chose to believe Chloe's ridiculous "gift" and left Leo to die.

That was the exact moment I gave up. He didn't want to believe me, and I was done begging.

But when I finally rushed back to the hospital, the nurse was already wheeling a covered gurney toward me. "Mrs. Reynolds, we did everything we could.

We are so sorry for your loss." Just like that. I closed my eyes in sheer despair. When the pain is too deep, you can't even cry. My little boy's hands and feet were icecold.

No matter how hard I hugged him, I couldn't warm him up. I went through the motions like a zombie—getting the death certificate, looking at my son one last time.

Suddenly, Ethan transferred fifty thousand dollars to my account. He called me, his tone condescending. "If you wanted money, you could have just asked.

When have I ever kept money from you?" "But if you ever dare to curse our son with sickness again, you won't get a single penny from me.

Go buy him some new clothes first—" "Your son is dead!" I screamed into the phone, my voice cracking with agony. There was a brief, twosecond silence.

Then, Chloe's sweet, whiny voice drifted through the receiver. "Oh, Ethan, look at Clara.

How can she keep cursing her own son like this?" "What kind of mother does that?" Her casual words instantly reignited Ethan's anger. "Clara, have you had enough of this drama?!" "I gave you the money!

What more do you want?" "With this attitude of yours, I'm not coming home at all this week!" He slammed the phone down.

As silence filled the room, my heart felt like it was being ripped into shreds. The pain was so intense I broke out in a cold sweat.

I don't even remember how I walked to the crematorium. After finishing all the paperwork for the cremation, Eleanor sent me the divorce agreement signed by Ethan.

Wiping away my endless tears, my hands shook as I signed my name on the dotted line.

For the next three days, I focused entirely on planning my son’s funeral. Ethan never called once to check in.

It was just like the time we went hiking and I got lost in the deep forest. Chloe had insisted I was lying. "It's so late.

Clara probably just wanted to invite you for an outdoor hookup, Ethan. Do you really believe she’s lost?" Ethan didn't care.

He turned off his phone, leaving me terrified and shivering in the mountains all night. Chloe had probably made up another lie about me this time, too. But I didn't care anymore.

I just wanted to say a proper goodbye to my baby. Three days later, I returned to the house with swollen, exhausted eyes.

The moment I stepped through the door, a pillow flew right at my face. "Ethan, you are such a typical guy!" "You got the lingerie size completely wrong!

This is way too small!" Chloe was standing there, hands on her hips, pouting.

Ethan playfully grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the ground. "You're going to get cold and complain about cramps again.

Walking barefoot during your period, really?" Chloe was wearing one of the white buttondown shirts I had personally ironed for Ethan. I let out a selfdeprecating laugh.

Once, I had tried wearing his shirt, thinking it would be romantic. But Ethan had mocked me. "You're not a college girl anymore, Clara.

Don't embarrass yourself." It turned out he just wanted to save that view for someone else.

Seeing them stop their flirting because of my return, I didn't want to ruin their fun. "Carry on.

I’m just here to grab some things, and then I'll leave." With that, I turned to walk upstairs to pack.

But Ethan marched up and grabbed my wrist tightly. "Clara, where the hell have you been for the past three days?" I shook off his grip and kept walking.

At the top of the stairs, Chloe's teacup Pomeranian was happily eating out of a bowl.

Chloe followed me up, grabbing my arm in a fake, cuddly gesture. "Your cooking is still the best, Clara! My dog loves this dish.

You should make it more often." I slowly turned to look at Ethan. He looked away, guilt flashing in his eyes.

I had burned my hands with blisters learning to perfect that beef stew just because he said he liked it. Even recently, I kept making it and leaving it in the fridge for him.

It turned out he was feeding it to the dog. Just like my love for him, it was all wasted on a dog. A dull ache throbbed in my chest. Disgusted, I pushed Chloe's hand off my arm.

It was a light push, but she fell backward down the stairs without any warning.

It was only two steps, but she landed on the floor, crying dramatically and clutching her ankle. "Clara, why did you push me?" "What did I do to make you hate me so much?

My ankle hurts so bad..." Ethan rushed down to scoop her into his arms, glaring up at me with fury. "Did you push her? What is wrong with you?

Apologize to her right now!" Seeing the smug, mocking glint in Chloe's teary eyes, I was too exhausted to play her games.

I turned around and walked away. "A coldhearted woman like you is a terrible mother!

What kind of example are you setting for our son?!" Ethan's angry shouts echoed behind me as I walked into my bedroom.

Hearing Ethan singing a soothing song to Chloe outside the door, I couldn't help but picture the loving father he could have been to Leo. But Leo was dead.

And he would never know his father didn't care about him. I packed Leo's favorite toys and my clothes into a suitcase. Suddenly, the bedroom door was kicked open.

"Why are you packing?" Ethan’s suspicious gaze landed on me, his muscles tensing. "Leo..." I paused, biting my lip before continuing, "He’s not coming back." In the end, I kept the truth to myself.

I didn't want to humiliate myself further, nor did I want to use my son’s death to test if he had a heart. It wasn't worth it. Ethan let out a sigh of relief and nodded. "Good.

Chloe is staying here for a few days anyway. She can sleep in Leo's room." My heart squeezed so hard it felt like it was bleeding. Chloe always had unlimited access to this house.

She came and went as she pleased. She looked more like the mistress of this house than I ever did, while Leo and I were just guests.

I had fought with Ethan about this before, and he had promised me he would set boundaries. But he broke that promise, over and over again. I smiled bitterly. "It's your house.

Do whatever you want." Ethan froze, clearly surprised by how easily I had given in. Right then, Chloe's sweet voice echoed from downstairs. "Ethan!

Come here for a second!" Without another word, Ethan turned and ran to her. That night, I ran a high fever.

My mind was a chaotic mess of memories, and tears flowed silently down my face.

I remembered when I used to get sick, Ethan would cancel multimilliondollar meetings just to stay by my side at the hospital.

The cold, arrogant CEO would turn into a gentle husband, coaxing me to take my medicine with a lollipop.

Now, I reached out to the empty side of the bed, feeling nothing but cold sheets. By midnight, my throat felt like it was on fire. I dragged myself out of bed to get some water.

As I passed Leo's room, I heard giggles and hushed whispers from inside. "Stop it, Ethan! Be serious and put the ointment on me.

It really iches!" Through the halfopen door, I saw Ethan lifting the hem of Chloe's shirt, smiling as he rubbed ointment on her lower back. "Where did you scrape it?

Let me see." The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension. "That is my son's bed." My raspy, dry voice shattered the romantic mood.

Seeing their startled expressions, I lost my mind. I rushed in, shoved them both off the bed, and began frantically wiping the sheets where they had lain. "Clara!

Have you lost your mind?!" Ethan's hand flew across my face, slapping me hard.

The copper taste of blood filled my mouth, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. "Chloe and I grew up together! Why do you have to be so psychotic?

It's the middle of the night, where else was I supposed to put ointment on her?" It was always the same excuse. Growing up together apparently justified any level of intimacy.

I remembered when I got into a car accident while pregnant.

I had accidentally videocalled him, only to see Chloe in a bikini, lounging in his lap. "You're so toxic for checking up on me like this.

We are basically siblings!" He had hung up on me. That night, I suffered a severe hemorrhage and almost died on the operating table.

Pushing the memory away, I repeated coldly, "This is my son's bed. I won't let you defile his things." Ethan let out a harsh, sarcastic laugh. "Fine! We'll go stay at a hotel.

We won't stay here to eyesore you!" He grabbed his coat, wrapped it around Chloe, and shoved past me, hard.

Chloe looked back at me over her shoulder, her eyes filled with triumph and malice.

The next morning, I grabbed my suitcase and walked into Leo's room for one last look. The familiar baby scent was still in the air. It felt like he was still here, smiling at me.

Suddenly, the click of high heels broke the silence. Chloe walked in. She looked around the room, a smug, vicious smile on her face. "So, your little brat is dead.

You must be devastated, Clara. But honestly... I think it’s hilarious!" I froze. Chloe knew. She knew Leo was dead!

That was why she had accused me of lying when I went to ask Ethan for the hospital deposit!

Seeing me shaking with rage, Chloe's smile grew wider and more twisted. "I had to get rid of him. He was always whining 'Daddy, Daddy' around Ethan. It drove me crazy!

Now that he’s gone, Ethan can focus entirely on me." My fingernails dug into my palms so hard they drew blood. A wave of murderous rage washed over me.

Before I could think, my hands were wrapped tightly around her neck. "Chloe Bennett! How can you be so evil?!" But Chloe didn't panic.

She choked out a laugh and shook her finger at me. "Oh, this is nothing." "Clara, don't think you're going to run to Ethan and tell him.

I'm sending you to join your son right now." With a sudden burst of strength, she broke free, grabbed a small diffuser from her bag, and placed it on the desk.

Before I could react, she slipped out of the room and locked the door from the outside. Within minutes, a thick, sweet, suffocating scent filled the room.

Every breath I took felt like inhaling razor blades. I tried to smash the window, but Ethan had installed shatterproof glass.

My hands were covered in blood, but the glass wouldn't break. As my consciousness started to fade, I heard Ethan's voice in the hallway.

Like a dying person catching a lifeline, I banged on the door with all my remaining strength, coughing up blood. "Ethan! Save me!

Please!" "What's that noise..." Ethan's footsteps approached the door.

But in the next second, Chloe's voice stopped him. "Clara must be mad at me for spending so much time with you.

She's probably playing sick to get your attention." Hearing this, Ethan took his hand off the doorknob and knocked on the door impatiently. "Clara, enough.

If you want to play games, do it alone. I'm going on vacation with Chloe for the next three days!" The toxic gas seeped deep into my lungs.

My throat was burning, and I couldn't make a sound. I kept tapping on the door weakly, but Chloe's loud, shrill voice drowned out every sound I made. "Ethan, let's go to the island!

You haven't taken me on vacation in forever." "Alright, alright. You're more spoiled than Leo was." Their laughter faded down the hallway.

I collapsed onto the floor, my vision going black as I finally closed my eyes.