I once believed a baby would heal what was broken between Carl and me. I thought parenthood might soften his edges, draw him closer, maybe even anchor him. I arranged a gender reveal party with the hope of bonding us together. But instead, a stranger’s arrival forced me to make the hardest decision of my life.
For years, I thought love meant sacrifice. I convinced myself that devotion could mend sharp words, that silence could erase betrayal. Carl and I were together five years. He didn’t drink, never hit me, and even helped with chores. Compared to stories I’d heard, I thought I was lucky. He avoided marriage talk, brushing it off with “not the right time” or “let’s wait until we’re more stable.” I accepted excuses, clinging to hope that someday he would change.
Then one morning, two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test. My hands shook as I held it. A baby. My heart swelled with joy. Surely now Carl would want to marry me, to build a real family. That night, I cooked his favorite meal, lit candles, and placed the test in a small box as a surprise.
When he came home, his first words weren’t loving but sharp. “What’s all this?” he muttered, frowning at the table. I ignored the perfume lingering on him—perfume that wasn’t mine—and pressed the box into his hands. His eyes lit briefly before souring when he opened it. “What the hell is this? You peed on a stick and wrapped it up?” I tried to explain, tears rising, but his response was a shrug. “Happy, I guess. Probably why you’re so big lately.”
It hurt, but I clung to the idea that once he saw our baby, he’d change. Men didn’t always feel like fathers until they held the child, I told myself. But the late nights, the strange scents on his clothes, the distance—they never stopped.
Then one afternoon, the doorbell rang. To my surprise, it was Victor, Carl’s younger brother, standing there with grocery bags. “Heard the good news,” he said softly. “Brought you some healthy food.” I asked how he knew, since Carl and I hadn’t told anyone. His answer made my blood run cold. “Carl bragged about it. Said the baby would bring him Grandma’s fortune once she’s gone.”
I froze. “What do you mean?”
“Grandma’s will leaves everything to the first great-grandchild. He made it sound like you were carrying a ticket, not a child.”
My stomach turned. I tried to defend Carl, but Victor’s eyes told me he saw through it. When I admitted I had an ultrasound appointment alone that day, Victor immediately offered to come. And when I heard my baby’s heartbeat on the monitor, tears streamed down my face. Victor’s eyes filled too, though he tried to hide it. That moment, I felt supported in a way Carl had never given me.
When I showed Carl the photo later, he barely glanced at it. “Cool, I guess. Can’t even tell what it is.” His indifference was crushing.
As my belly grew, Victor quietly showed up again and again—baby clothes, vitamins, little things to remind me I wasn’t alone. Meanwhile, Carl mocked me. “You’re getting huge. Slow down on the food,” he sneered one night. I bit my lip, cradling the child he dismissed.
Still, I wanted something special, so I suggested a gender reveal. Carl exploded. “Waste of money! You sit home all day, and you want to blow cash on some dumb party?” My voice cracked when I reminded him he’d asked me to quit my job. He scoffed, “Because women can’t handle real work anyway.”
Victor, overhearing, stepped in. “Carl, she’s carrying your child. Show some respect.” Carl laughed in his face. “I get it. You want her. Trying to steal my woman.” Victor stood his ground. “If you don’t change, you’ll lose her yourself.”
Reluctantly, Carl allowed the party—funded by Victor, hosted in his yard. On the day, laughter filled the air, though tension simmered beneath. My parents mingled with Carl’s family, and for a brief moment, I almost believed things could be normal.
Until I saw her. A stunning, confident woman clinging to Carl’s arm like she belonged there. My stomach clenched. I tried to ignore it, stepping forward with Carl to cut the cake. But before I could place my hand on the knife, the woman slid in, lacing her fingers with his. Together, they cut into the cake as if I didn’t exist. Pink filling spilled out—a girl. The joy of learning my baby’s gender was ripped from me in an instant.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
The woman smiled sweetly. “I’m the surrogate. Right, baby?” she cooed at Carl.
“Yes, Serena,” he said calmly, as if it were the most natural thing.
The world tilted beneath me. “Surrogate? I’m carrying this child!”
Carl’s eyes were like ice. “Don’t overreact. Did you really think I’d raise a kid with you? Look at yourself—let yourself go, fat and emotional. Serena will be the mother. You’re just the vessel. We’ll take the baby after she’s born.”
Gasps spread through the crowd. My heart hammered. “You can’t do that. She’s mine.”
“You have no job, no money, no home. Who would let you keep a baby?” he sneered. “You’re just the proxy. With her, I get Grandma’s inheritance.”
His grandmother’s face hardened in outrage, but before I could speak, Victor stepped forward. His voice was steady. “Alison, will you marry me? Let me raise this child with you.”
The world fell silent. My mind replayed every moment—Victor wiping his eyes at the ultrasound, carrying groceries, standing up to Carl, protecting me. All the quiet ways he had shown up where Carl failed me. My answer came from somewhere deep in my soul. “Yes.”
Gasps erupted again as Victor kissed me gently, reverently, a promise in that kiss that I’d never be alone again.
Carl erupted in rage. “You’re both insane! She’s my baby! I still inherit!”
His grandmother’s voice cut through like a blade. “No. A true father loves, protects, and honors his child. You will never see a penny from me.”
Carl sputtered, face twisted. “This was all a setup to rob me!”
Victor stepped closer, his jaw tight. “Unlike you, I don’t care about money. I care about her. Leave, or I’ll throw you out.”
Carl stormed away with Serena, cursing under his breath, while the guests watched in stunned silence. My body shook as tears finally spilled over. I leaned into Victor, my cheek against his chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He pressed a kiss to my hair. “Always.”
For the first time in years, I believed it.
