The room still smelled of antiseptic, my body still aching from the birth he didn’t even know happened. I stared at the sleeping baby beside me and let out a slow laugh. “Sure,” I whispered. “I’ll be there.” He has no idea what I’m bringing. And when he sees it… everything will change.
Eight months after the divorce, my phone buzzed with his name. “Come to my wedding,” he said, smug as ever. “She’s pregnant—unlike you.” I froze, fingers tightening around the hospital sheet.
