The Divorced Single Mother

Sophia Laurent had just turned thirty—that age when a woman is at the peak of her elegance and allure. But life had thrown her a curveball. She'd gone through a divorce after discovering her husband had cheated on her while she was pregnant.

Even though her ex was well-off, Sophia had always taken pride in her appearance. Her skin was flawless, smoother and more delicate than that of most women half her age.

That day, she gently took my hand, her voice soft and pleading. "The underground garage is completely empty right now… and I'm really not feeling well. Would you mind coming with me?"

A faint blush colored her cheeks, giving her a kind of vulnerable beauty that was hard to ignore.

Her words sent a jolt straight through me.

"Ahem… sure," I managed. "Should we go now?"

Sophia's face lit up with relief. "Thank you, John! I really appreciate it."

I nodded, trying to ignore the heat building inside me as I followed her. She walked ahead, her hips swaying gently—a sight that was downright hypnotic.

Soon, we reached the underground parking garage.

"Thanks again for helping me out, John," she said, handing me her keys. "Could you drive me to the hospital? I need to get checked out."

I almost choked. So that's what she meant? I'd thought…

"Is everything okay?" She tilted her head, her expression genuinely confused.

I shook off my own embarrassment—no way I could explain that. "Yeah, no problem. Let's go."

Sophia drove a Mercedes-Benz—a real beast of a machine. Sliding into the driver's seat felt like a dream. I ran my hands over the leather interior, listening to the engine purr. "Genuine leather… and that engine sound—incredible."

She smiled, clearly pleased by my reaction. "You know cars, John?"

"Enough to appreciate a good one," I replied.

She leaned in slightly. "What do you think of mine?"

"Best I've ever been in," I said, pressing the accelerator just to hear it growl. "Just listen to that intake—deep and powerful."

I let the double meaning hang in the air, hoping she'd catch on.

But she didn't. Instead, she looked concerned. "Oil leak? I haven't noticed anything. Is it serious? I haven't had it serviced in a while… Maybe you could take a look sometime?"

"Anytime," I said, grinning.

I drove us to the hospital she usually visited. After parking, we took the elevator up. The whole process—registering, paying fees, waiting in line—was exhausting. Sophia complained that her chest felt painfully tight, so I helped with everything I could.

Finally, our number was called.

"Please, come in," a woman's voice said.

We stepped into the examination room.

"Oh, you brought your husband today?" the doctor remarked. She was familiar with Sophia—but apparently, her ex had never come along before.

To my surprise, Sophia didn't correct her.

I offered an awkward smile.

"Doctor, she's been in a lot of pain," I said.

The doctor shot me a look. "That's the husband's job. You should be massaging her regularly to prevent blockages. And if the baby can't drain the milk, you need to help. Every night. This isn't just her responsibility."

She spoke sternly while gently examining Sophia, who was blushing so hard she could barely look at me.

I knew she didn't want people knowing about the divorce, so I played along.

"Alright, I'll make sure to help tonight. I'll do my part."

"Good," the doctor said, finally softening.

But then she paused. "Ah!"

Sophia and I both tensed.

"There's a lump here," the doctor said, her tone turning serious.

Sophia's eyes widened. "Is it bad?"

"It could be. Lumps are never something to ignore. Might even require surgery."

Now I was worried, too. "Can you check it thoroughly, Doctor?"

"Of course. Lift your shirt—let me take a look."

Sophia's face turned crimson. "It's… a little awkward."