Page 2 of The real heiress secretly conceived my husband’s child

Robert walked over to me, naturally positioning himself on my left side as he chatted with me. "Why did you come here alone? Are you okay?"

Maria shot Robert a playfully reproachful look, then rested her head on my shoulder.

She said, "Harper's fine. She's grown up now and knows how to care for us."

Robert pretended to be annoyed and gently pinched my cheek. "Either way, you can't come to the hospital by yourself. Do you hear me?"

Taking advantage of this moment, I slipped my phone, which I'd already set to record, into Robert's pocket.

I said, "I know I was wrong. I need to go for my checkup now. Dad, can you hold my phone for me?"

This was something we did regularly, so neither Robert nor Maria thought anything of it.

When we reached the gynecology office, I walked into the examination room alone.

Robert and Maria waved at me eagerly from the doorway, their eyes full of concern.

In the past, I would have felt grateful for having the best family in the world.

But now, I only felt afraid. It was like countless venomous snakes were crawling all over my body, ready to deliver a fatal strike at any moment.

After I finished all my tests, Maria immediately took the reports to consult with a specialist.

She asked, "How is Harper doing?"

Meanwhile, Robert pulled out the notebook he always carried with him. The notebook was filled with details about my preferences and dietary restrictions.

If I hadn't discovered the truth, I would have thought they were parents who deeply loved their child.

I said to them, "Dad, Mom, I need to use the restroom."

I playfully retrieved my phone from Robert, then walked into the bathroom with trembling legs.

Before playing the recording, I had mentally prepared myself countless times.

But when I heard the first sentence, my heart still felt like it was being stabbed with needles.

The recording captured my attending physician's voice: "Mr. Robert Anderson, Mrs. Maria Anderson, Miss Anderson has been recovering quite well these past few months. All her wounds from that time have healed. As long as she takes care of herself, she should be able to get pregnant soon. Should we stop the medication she's currently taking?

"I'm afraid if she continues taking it, she really won't be able to have children. Isn't that too cruel to her?"

He sounded somewhat guilty.

Depriving a woman of the right to become a mother was inherently cruel.

But the next second, Robert cut him off directly.

He said, "I didn't hire you to worry about these things. The medication cannot be stopped!

"It's just a child. We can adopt one, and it'll save her from the pain of childbirth."

Maria chimed in, "Harper's health has never been good anyway. Not having children is what's best for her. We don't need an outsider telling us what to do. You're just a doctor. Just do what you're supposed to do. Do you understand?"

Their tone was particularly harsh, so the doctor quickly agreed.

He said, "I didn't mean to overstep. Mr. Robert Anderson, I'm just reminding you that at this dosage, I'm afraid Miss Anderson might overdose. Not only will she be unable to become a mother, but it could also harm her health."

This sounded like a serious problem, but Robert didn't care at all.

He said, "I understand. That's not something you need to worry about. Just make sure her wounds heal properly. Everything else is none of your business."

The doctor replied, "Yes, sir."

The recording ended there. I felt cold all over.

All these months, I had been feeling incredibly guilty about not being able to give Weston a child.

Robert and Maria always comforted me, saying it wasn't my fault and that having children couldn't be forced.

It turned out they were the ones in the wrong all along. My inability to conceive was fake. They simply didn't want me to have Weston's child.

In their eyes, I wasn't worthy of bearing Weston's childrenonly their biological daughter Anna was.

No wonder after all these months, I was still taking medication.

Everything had been a lie. The doctor was fake, and their claims of "doing this for my own good" were fake too.

Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably. My body trembled, and I felt completely drained of strength.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Maria had noticed I'd been gone for a long time. "Harper."

Maria was particularly anxious, knocking on each bathroom door one by one, terrified that something had happened to me.

I answered, "I'm in here."

After wiping away my tears, I walked out to Maria with red-rimmed eyes.

Seeing me in this state, Maria was shocked. She reached out to touch my face and asked, "What's wrong? Who upset you? Why were you crying? Talk to me, okay?"

The face before me looked no different from the past, yet I felt a wave of nausea in my stomach.

I told her, "I'm fine, Mom. I probably ate something bad, so my stomach's a bit upset."

I leaned against Maria's shoulder, hiding the hatred in my eyes. She helplessly ruffled my hair and took me back to Thompson Manor.

Weston had already learned I was home, so he was waiting at the door.

This man who had been touching another woman's belly just two hours ago now tenderly embraced me, gently rubbing my stomach.

He said, "I heard from Maria that your stomach was bothering you, so I rushed back to make you some soup. It's almost ready. Have some and then rest."

Only then did I notice he still had an apron tied around his waist.

If I hadn't witnessed everything at the hospital today, I never would have believed that Weston, who took such thoughtful care of me in daily life, had always loved someone else in his heart.

When we got married, he even moved near Anderson Manor specifically so I could be closer to home.

Even in his midnight dreams, he would call out my name, yet he still didn't love me.

The person Weston loved was Anna. For Anna's sake, he was willing to marry me and go through the motions with me for all these years.

I truly admired his acting skills.

I said to Robert and Maria, "Dad, Mom, come in and have dinner with us."

After helping me sit down on the sofa, Weston returned to the kitchen to continue his work.

Robert and Maria kept remarking how lucky I was to have found such a wonderful man.

But I found myself staring at a painting on the wall. I had never understood why Weston insisted on hanging this ugly-looking painting in the most prominent spot.

Now, seeing Robert and Maria's eyes drawn to this painting as soon as they entered, and noticing the letter "A" on it, I finally understood.

Because the person who painted it was important to them, this painting had to be displayed in the most visible place.

Weston emerged from the kitchen, saying, "Dinner's ready."

After all the dishes were served, I suddenly realized that throughout all these years, the food Weston cooked wasn't what I liked to eat at all.

For the past six years, I had kept this question buried in my heart, thinking, "These are dishes Weston loves. He works so hard taking care of me, so accommodating his tastes at mealtime is the least I can do."

But now I realized something. Were these really dishes he liked? Or were they what Anna liked?

Seeing my pale complexion, Weston worriedly placed some food on my plate. "Harper, what's wrong?"

Maria paused, her tone becoming stiff as she said, "Seeing you two so happy puts your father and me at ease. It's just that I don't know..."

Her unfinished words referred to Anna. Throughout all these years, she would inevitably bring up Anna during happy moments. I had always been grateful that they gave up their biological daughter for me, so whenever I heard her mention Anna, I felt too guilty to speak.

Robert continued, "I don't know how that child is doing now either. After all, she's still your mother's and my flesh and blood. We hope she's not suffering too much abroad and that she's at least alive.

Harper, don't blame your mother. She is, after all, a child your mother gave birth to. She's already paid the price for what she did. What's past is past. You should let go of the past too."