“The Child That Wasn’t Mine to Blame
The hall went completely silent.
Van stopped walking.
Slowly… she turned around.
Her hand rested gently on her stomach.
She didn’t look ashamed.
She didn’t look angry.
She looked calm.
“My child’s father,” she said quietly, “is someone who actually wanted me.”
A murmur rippled through the guests.
My new wife tightened her grip on my arm.
“What does that mean?” she pressed.
Van looked straight at me.
“For three years, you made me believe something was wrong with me,” she said. “You avoided me. You rejected every attempt at closeness. When I suggested medical tests, you refused. You made me feel unwanted.”
I felt heat rise in my face.
“That’s not—” I started.
She cut me off.
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