My Maternity Records Belong to Another Woman novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15

For the next week, a thermal lunchbox appeared on Evelyn’s desk every day without fail.

It was a sleek, charcoal–gray, three–tier Japanese–style container.

The top tier holds creamy oatmeal, slow–cooked to a thick consistency.

The middle tier contains steamed sweet potatoes and butternut squash.

The bottom tier features soft honey cake–all gentle, stomach–soothing foods.

A note was stuck to the side, the ink pressed deep into the paper in firm strokes:

[Don’t forget to eat. – Matthew]

“Ms. Winston, same delivery as usual?” The receptionist peeked in with the lunchbox, her voice laced with envy and caution. “Mr. Roscente is really thoughtful…‘

Evelyn didn’t look up from her design drafts. “You can have it.”

2)

“R–really? Is that okay?” The receptionist blushed. “I heard it’s from a Michelin chef hired by

Roscente Group…”

A drop of ink bled onto the paper beneath Evelyn’s pen. She finally glanced up, lips curved in polite

indifference. “Or throw it out.”

The box ended up in the office break room.

Within minutes, Evelyn’s coworkers–working late again–finished everything.

One of them licked his lips.

“This is amazing. But if even this didn’t soften Evelyn’s heart, Roscente must’ve done something

seriously unforgivable.”

No one noticed the crumpled note tossed into the trash.

At 11 p.m., Evelyn returned home from another late night. She rubbed her temples and inserted her

key–but paused.

Light seeped through the door gap. There were faint sounds from inside.

Her body tensed. She stepped back, phone in hand. But as she pushed the door open, a familiar scent

drifted out.

Matthew was squatting in the living room, rubber gloves on, wiping down the coffee table.

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Startled, he looked up, damp bangs stuck to his forehead. His suit jacket was slung carelessly over the couch, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing the toned lines of his forearms.

“I saw you’ve been working late and probably don’t have time to clean…” he started. The cloth was still clutched in his hand. “I hired a professional team. They’re coming tomorrow to do a full

sanitization…”

“Get out,” Evelyn said from the doorway. She hadn’t moved an inch. Her finger hovered over the emergency dial.

“Now.”

Matthew stood, flustered. He reached toward her. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to…”

“Hello, I’d like to report a break–in at Unit 203, Building 7, Havencrest Apartments,” Evelyn spoke calmly into the phone, eyes locked warily on him. “Yes. He’s in my apartment right now.”

The police arrived quickly.

Two officers stopped Matthew at the doorway. He looked stunned.

“I’m her husband. This is a family matter.”

“Under Swiss civil law, entering a spouse’s residence during separation without consent constitutes trespassing,” Evelyn said, pulling out a notarized prenup. She had highlighted the clause: “Marriage automatically terminates in case of infidelity.”

“We are no longer married,” she added.

The senior officer scanned the document and turned to Matthew. “Sir, your residency ID, please.”

Matthew’s face drained of color. He handed it over, then looked at Evelyn, his voice nearly pleading.

“I just wanted to do something to make up for it… You really didn’t eat any of those meals?”

Evelyn turned away, voice flat with a hint of weariness. “All I know is you’re disrupting my life.‘

That sentence struck like a poisoned blade. Matthew swayed slightly. One of the officers gestured for him to step out. As they escorted him to the hallway, he stumbled, nearly falling to his knees.

“Ms. Winston, would you like to file for a restraining order?” the officer asked as he closed his

notebook.

“No need.” Evelyn paused with the door halfway shut. “He’s just a stranger now.”

Just as the elevator doors began to close, Matthew broke free from the officers. His eyes were red,

his voice ragged and raw.

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“That Simon… does he know you’re allergic to milk? That you get leg cramps in the middle of the night? He doesn’t know how to take care of you!”

But Evelyn didn’t respond. She had already pressed the button to shut the doors.

After being escorted back to his hotel suite by police, Matthew stared at the surveillance footage on

his laptop.

It was from the hidden camera he had just installed.

On the screen, Evelyn curled up on the couch reading documents. Her hand rested on her stomach. A half–cup of cold coffee sat on the table.

Matthew reached out, trying to touch the screen, but his fingers only met the cold surface.

The whiskey cabinet was already missing two bottles.

He took another long swig, then called his assistant. His voice was hoarse but sharp.

“Speed up the acquisition. By tomorrow, I want a notice transferring Simon to the Africa project.”