Divorced by His Fake Cancer,Now He’s Begging for My Son Back

Everyone in Harbor City knew the Henson family had one criterion for choosing a daughter-in-law: fertility.

With my naturally rounded frame and striking hip-to-waist ratio, Old Mrs. Henson spotted me like a winning lottery ticket and paid a fortune to bring me into the family.

Outsiders mocked me for marrying up on my curves alone. What they didn't know was that Piers Henson held me close every night, whispering that he adored every inch of my voluptuous figure.

Until New Year's Eve of our fifth year of marriage, when his assistant accidentally sent me an electronic invitation.

Groom: Piers Henson. Bride: Minnie Finch. Wedding date: the eighth day of the new year.

Half an hour later, he knelt in the snow-covered courtyard, hands trembling as he pushed a medical report toward me.

"Vera Harding, I have terminal stomach cancer... I can't drag you and our son down with me."

I suddenly remembered how he'd stood in the kitchen that morning, coughing while making me soup.

Then I looked at the medical report in front of me.

Fake.

After a long silence, I picked up the divorce agreement and signed it without hesitation.

I held my son in my arms and smiled.

"From now on, my son takes my surnameHarding. He won't be entered into the Henson family register. He'll have nothing to do with your family ever again."

The moment the words left my mouth, everyone around the table froze in shock.

Myra Henson slammed her cane against the floor, her voice heavy with authority.

"Piers, the Henson line is thin enough as it is. We finally have a grandson. I will not let the family line end with you."

I pulled my son tighter against my chest and said nothing.

She was warning me.

Piers dropped to his knees with a heavy thud, pushing the medical report forward.

"Grandmother, this came out of nowhere. I had no choice."

"I'm already in the late stages of stomach cancer. I don't have much time left. I can't burden Verathe only thing I can give her now is her freedom."

He pressed his forehead hard against the floor, leaving a red mark on his skin.

His words sent the room into an uproar.

The relatives around the table immediately shifted their concern to Piers's health.

Myra rose to her feet, swaying slightly, and gestured for a servant to bring her the medical report.

She took it and flipped through the pages. With each one, her face grew paler.

"Is this real?"

Piers nodded.

"It came up in my full physical a few days ago. It's already late-stage. The doctor said I don't have long."

Then he turned to look at me.

"Vera, I'm sorry. I can't keep my promise to grow old with you."

The grief in his eyes looked almost real.

I let out a bitter laugh.

"Piers, you know the truth better than anyone. I've said what I'll sayI'll agree to the divorce, but I'm taking my son."

I turned to face Myra at the head of the table.

"That's my only condition."

Piers's brow furrowed. His lips parted as if to speak.

"Terry Harding isn't just my son. He's Henson blood. I can't agree to that."

Myra's expression hardened the moment she heard I wanted to take Terry. Displeasure etched itself across her face.

"Daughter-in-law, I don't want to hear such nonsense again."

My gaze turned cold.

"I've already said it. That's my only condition."

Piers stared at me, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.

He hadn't expected me not to make a scene.

He shuffled forward on his knees until he was beside me.

"Vera, even if we divorce, Terry is still your son. If he stays with the Hensons, he'll have access to the best education."

"Shouldn't a mother want what's best for her child?"

His argument was pathetic.

"Save your breath. Agree to my terms, and we go to the County Clerk's Office right now."

Piers straightened his back and lifted his head toward Myra.

Piers glanced at Terry nestled in my arms, a flicker of reluctance crossing his eyes.

"Grandma, I have to go through with this divorce."

"Please, just let her go."

With that, he cast me a shadowed look.

Myra was lividfor the first time, her composure cracked completely.

"Are you truly this blind? The Hensons have money, powerno matter how much it costs, I will find a way to cure you!"

Piers straightened on his knees, his gaze unwavering.

"Grandma, I'm dying. I'm begging youlet me have this."

"Get out! Get out of my sight! The Henson family has no room for a disgrace like you!"

Without a word, Piers rose and walked outside, only to kneel again in the courtyard.

"Grandma, whether you agree or not, I will end this marriage!"

Watching his stubborn figure, I felt a dull ache spread through my chest.

I held my son close and walked past him.

Piers caught the hem of my coat, tilting his face up to meet my eyes.

"Vera, for the sake of everything we've shared all these years..."

I cut him off before he could finish.

I turned my head, looking down at him.

"Piers, when you asked for this divorcedid you think about everything we've shared?"

"When you abandoned Terry without a second thoughtdid you think about it then?"

The question stopped him cold.

"Vera..."

I shook off his hand and walked away without looking back.

That wedding invitationhis and Minnie'sstill sat in my phone's photo album.

Once, he had treated me with such care.

Even though we'd never met before our wedding.

He'd still given me every respect.

A handwritten invitation. A gown he designed himself.

Vows spoken before the officiant.

"Vera, now that we're married, I promise to be good to youto be the husband you deserve."

"I, Piers Henson, want nothing more than to grow old by your side."

So why had everything changed?

The snow fell all night. Piers was carried back by the servants, his face flushed red from the cold.

I was packing.

He half-reclined on the bed, watching me through lowered lashes.

"Vera, I'm sorry. You're still young. You have your whole future ahead of you."

"After the divorce, I'll ask Grandma to find someone better for you. With the Henson family behind you, no one will dare mistreat you."

"As for TerryGrandma has agreed."

Every word dripped with concern for my well-being. His eyes swam with apology.

I let out a soft laugh.

"Piers, there's no need for this. We didn't marry for love. Divorcing now just means everyone gets what they want."

I paused, then added: "And you don't need to arrange anything for me. I don't need it."

He blinked, caught off guard.

Looking at that familiar face, bitterness pooled in my chest.

"Vera..."

I looked away and didn't answer.

I kept packing, focused on the task.

Only five years of marriage, yet somehow there was so much.

The entire room was filled with gifts from Piers.

Clothes he'd bought me. Handbags. Shoes. Little souvenirs from every city he'd visited.

Each one a witness to the love we'd once shared.

But none of that mattered anymore.

I'd arrived with just a few pieces of clothing. I'd leave the same way.

Myra swept in with a doctor in tow. The moment her eyes landed on the suitcase at my feet, her expression turned to ice.

"Daughter-in-law, so eager to leave, are we?"

"I misjudged you. People like youpoor and commonyou're only good for the easy times, never the hard ones."

My voice dripped with mockery.

If she hadn't thought I could carry on the Henson bloodline, she probably wouldn't have spared me a second glance.

I kept my tone even.

"I'd better clear out quickly. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your next bridethat would be unforgivable of me."

Piers' voice cut through, cold and sharp. "Vera, what the hell are you talking about?"

I met his gaze without flinching.

"We're getting the divorce on the eighth. The County Clerk's Office opens that day."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked toward the nursery to check on Terry.

But my mind drifted backto what happened not long ago.

Minnie had shown up on Little New Year's Eve, seeking out Piers.

Her face was pale, her coat far too thin for the winter cold.

"Piers."

The moment her voice reached him, his eyes went red.

He shot to his feet, the chair scraping against the floor, and crossed the room to drape his coat over her shoulders, his movements tender with concern.

"I'm sorry, Piers. I had nowhere else to turn."

"Lana Abbott is sick. PleaseI'm begging yousave her."

That was the first time I'd ever seen Piers lose his composure like that.

He left. Just like that. Left me and Terry behind without a backward glance.

He didn't come home that night.

When Terry woke, he crawled into my arms, all chubby limbs and sleepy warmth.

"Mama."

I pressed a kiss to his little cheek.

Myra chose that moment to enter the nursery.

"You gave the Henson family an heir. Credit where it's dueeven with the divorce, you won't walk away empty-handed."

I didn't know what Piers had said to her, but she'd agreed to let me take Terry.

I didn't refuse.

Her cold gaze swept over me.

"If you hadn't given birth to Terry, you wouldn't get a single cent."

I didn't doubt for a second that she meant it.

"Grandma, that's enough."

Piers appeared in the doorway, exhaustion carved into every line of his face. He stepped in front of me, just as he always had.

Shielding me from Myra's barbs.

I remembered the early days of our marriage, before Terry came along.

Myra had scoured every corner of the city for fertility remedies, brewing bitter concoctions and forcing them on me daily.

The taste was vile. I hated every drop.

But I never dared refuse.

Back then, Piers would always step in. He'd send Myra away, then pour the medicine down the drain.

"If you don't want to drink it, don't."

I'd gaze at him, heart full to bursting, though a sliver of worry remained.

"What if Grandma finds out? She'll be furious."

He'd tap my nose, playful and reassuring.

"You won't tell. I won't tell. Who's going to know?"

"I didn't marry you just to have sons."

Back then, I truly believed he was the one.

Until two weeks ago, when I discovered a secret buried in his computer.

A password-protected folder. Thousands of photos. Him and another woman.

I clicked through them, one by one.

Piers walked into the study at that exact moment. The instant he saw me at his computer, his expression twisted with rage. He lunged forward and snatched it away.

"Vera, who the hell told you to touch my computer?"

His voice was a thunderclap. His tone, vicious.

I froze. Stared at him. Couldn't process what I was seeing.

A beat passed. Something in his face shiftedperhaps he realized he'd gone too far.

His demeanor softened. He stepped closer and pulled me into his arms.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean it. I justI panicked."

I drew a slow breath and pointed at the screen.

"What is that?"

His expression darkened, just for a flash.

"She's my first love."

The girl in those photoshis first love. They'd fallen for each other when they were young.

Piers's youth had been filled with her shadow.

In the end, Myra had torn them apart.

"She went abroad after that. I couldn't find her."

My eyes burned red, my voice thick with suppressed tears. "Then what about me? What was I to you?"

"If she was still in your heart, why did you agree to marry me?"

Piers panicked, stepping forward to grip my arms.

"NoVera, you're the only one I love now."

"If you don't believe me, I'll delete all those photos."

And he did. Every single one.

He held me, apologizing over and over, swearing I was the only one in his heart now.

I believed him.

Until the day Minnie reappeared.

He cast me aside without a second thought.

My thoughts snapped back to the present. Piers was urging Myra to leave.

Once she was gone, he pulled a card from his pocket.

"What Grandmother gave you came from the Henson family."

"This card holds my personal assets. It's all for you and Terry."

I didn't refuse.

"It's what I'm owed."

Something like reluctance flickered in his eyes. He reached toward me, as if to stroke my hair the way he always used to.

"I'm sorry, Vera. I couldn't keep my promise to grow old with you."

"Next life, I'll make it up to you."

The sorrow in his gaze seemed genuine.

I found it laughable.

Perhaps he didn't know I'd already discovered Minnie's wedding plans.

Perhaps he thought his illness charade hadn't been exposed.

The eighth day of the new yeardivorce first, then remarriage.

"Piers, we're getting divorced. Drop the act."

I gave him no face whatsoever, scooping up my just-woken son and heading for the door.

Piers sat motionless on the edge of the child's bed.

If he'd just been honestadmitted he'd fallen out of love, that he'd cheated

I might have respected him a little.

The new year passed in absurdity.

Piers didn't appear again until the eighth.

From the servants' hushed whispers, I learned he'd been with Minnie the entire time.

On the eighth day, I stood at the Henson estate gates.

Piers pulled up in his car.

"Vera, there's really no rush. I can hold on a bit longer."

My expression was ice. I gestured for him to open the door.

"Let's go. The County Clerk's Office should be open."

Silence stretched between us the entire drive.

When we arrived, I didn't wait for himjust strode inside.

The new year had just ended; the office was nearly empty.

Our turn came quickly.

The clerk asked the standard question.

"Are you certain you want to divorce?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

Piers seemed startled by my certainty. His gaze found mine, tinged with reluctance.

"Vera..."

My mind was on Terry, alone at home. Impatience sharpened my voice.

"Are we doing this or not?"

Piers exhaled softly.

"...Yes."

After leaving the clerk's office, I hailed a cab back to the Henson estate.

The moment I stepped through the door, I heard Terry's screams.

My heart seized. I ran.

What I saw made my blood boil.

A girl of six or seven was straddling my son's small body, bouncing on him like he was a horse.

"Giddy-up!" she shrieked.

Not a single servant moved to stop her.

Terry's little face scraped against the rough floor, leaving raw, bloody trails across his cheeks.

His breathing grew faint. His voice, barely a whisper

"Mommy..."

Rage exploded through me. I charged forward and shoved the girl off him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

I pulled Terry into my arms, my heart aching as I checked him over for injuries.

"Lana!"

A woman's voice rang out behind me.

She rushed over and scooped up the little girl.

"Miss Harding, Lana is just a child. How could you lay a hand on her?"

I let out a cold laugh and slapped her across the face.

"She bullied my son. She deserved it."

Minnie's head snapped to the side, her hand flying to her cheek.

The next second, someone wrenched me away with brutal force.

"What the hell are you doing?" Piers demanded.

"It was just kids roughhousing. Do you really have to blow it out of proportion?"

"And Minnie was only worried about her daughter. Did you have to hit her?"

He hadn't held back when he grabbed me. I stumbled, clutching Terry, and we both crashed to the ground.

I looked up at him and smiledbut my eyes couldn't hide the devastation beneath.

"Piers, do you even remember you're Terry's father?"

"Look at his face. How can you say something like that?"

Piers went pale. He couldn't say a word.

I shot him one last icy glance, then gathered my son in my arms and walked toward the ancestral hall.

I pushed open the heavy doors and went straight to the family register displayed on the altar.

I flipped to Terry's page.

Son of Piers Henson.

Something dark flickered in my eyes. I raised my hand.

"Piers's wife"