Eight Years of Maybe One Day of I Do—Bride Swapped Deal With It novel Chapter 79

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Nine years into my marriage, I finally discovered the truth my husband hided.

He had given away our son-the child I’d carried and birthed-to his first love to raise as her own.

By the time I found out, our boy was already seven years old.

And desperately needed to be registered under a legal guardian’s name to start elementary school.

My husband came to me wearing what he probably thought was an apologetic expression, proposing we get a “fake divorce.”

“Look, switching the kids back then… it wasn’t like I had a choice,” he said, “Nina couldn’t have children. Her in-laws were making her life hell.”

He reached for my hand.

“I promise, babe-the second we get him enrolled in school, we’ll remarry. Like nothing ever happened.”

I looked at my son-the child who’d grown up calling another woman “Mom”-staring at me with pure hatred in his eyes.

Something inside me died in that moment.

Without a word, I nodded. We went to the courthouse and signed the papers.

While they were celebrating their new marriage certificate, giddy as newlyweds, I was boarding a one-way flight to the other side of the world.

This family? This life?

I was done with all of it.

We’d just walked out of the courthouse-freshly divorced-when Derek stopped mid-stride.

“So, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “When Nina and I go back in there to get married, you don’t have to stick around if it’s gonna be awkward. You can just take off.”

He said it like he was doing me a favor.

“We’re doing dinner tonight though. All of us. Family thing.”

He paused, then actually had the nerve to add:

“You know that seafood bake you do? Nina and Simon are obsessed with it. And since it’s both their birthdays today, maybe make a double batch? It’d really help smooth things over.”

I just stared at him.

He wanted me-his ex-wife of literally thirty minutes-to cook a birthday celebration dinner for his new wife and the son she’d stolen from me.

I didn’t have it in me to fight anymore.

“Yeah, sure. Do whatever. I’m out.”

16:03

Eight Years of Maybe. One De

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Relief washed over his face, like I’d just agreed to cover his shift or something.

I’d barely turned to leave when I heard them-little feet pounding across the parking lot.

“Dad! Daddy! We’re here!”

A small blur crashed straight into Derek’s arms.

Simon. Seven years old.

“Does this mean you’re gonna live with us now?”

The kid was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Can you both come to Field Day? All the other kids have both parents there.”

Derek dropped to one knee, and his entire voice changed. Soft. Patient. Like melted butter.

My flight was in four hours, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking back one more time.

At the boy I’d almost bled out delivering seven years ago.

Simon stood there gripping Derek’s hand, a perfect miniature version of his father-same jawline, same aristocratic features that made strangers do double-takes as they walked past.

Then Nina glided over in her fucking wedding dress.

Not some over-the-top ball gown, but a sleek, body-hugging number that screamed “I’m getting married but I’m still effortlessly chic about it.”

That’s when it clicked.

Derek wasn’t wearing his usual wrinkled button-down. He had on a custom-tailored suit in the exact shade to complement her dress.

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