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

editoron
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

PART 1

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.

The invitation came while I was still bleeding into a hospital pad. My ex-husband’s name flashed on my phone like a curse I had survived.

“Come to my wedding,” Julian said the moment I answered. His voice was smooth, proud, cruel. “You should see what a real woman looks like. Fiona is pregnant—unlike you.”

For three seconds, I couldn’t breathe.

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