When I got pregnant, Arnie seemed thrilled — holding the test, smiling wide, promising to be there every step of the way. But as my belly grew, his affection shrank. The man who once made me feel beautiful began to look at me with disgust.
He mocked my clothes, rolled his eyes when I complained of nausea, and treated me like a burden. Then one night, he came home late, reeking of perfume. When I asked where he’d been, he barked the name “Jessica” like I wasn’t even standing there.
As my due date approached, Arnie’s cruelty deepened. He criticized my every move — said I was lazy, unattractive, and not doing enough. He compared me to other women, especially his perfect sister who “never let pregnancy slow her down.”
But the worst blow came when I discovered the truth…
His betrayal ran deeper than I ever imagined.