I didn’t confront her.
Instead, I planned something else.
I booked a venue and told her we were throwing a gender reveal party. She loved the idea—didn’t question it at all.
That alone told me something was very wrong.
At ten weeks, you can’t reliably know the baby’s gender.
But she went along with everything.
I invited both our families. Friends. Made it look real.
Y en silencio, preparé la verdad.
Incluso volví a mi médico—solo para confirmar lo que ya sabía.
El día del evento, todo parecía perfecto. La
gente llegaba, riendo, haciendo fotos.
Stephanie entró la última, vestida de blanco, sonriendo como si ya hubiera ganado.
Me besó la mejilla. "Esto es precioso."
Asentí.
"Lo será."
