The betrayal cut deeper than I thought possible. While I was injecting hormones and tracking ovulation, Joshua was living a double life. And now, the result of that betrayal was asleep in my arms—Andrea, beautiful, helpless, blameless.
DNA confirmed it—she was his. Back home, silence screamed through the walls. I cried—for our broken dreams, for the trust we lost. But through the tears, I saw Andrea. And to my surprise, I didn’t feel hate. I felt love.
Joshua begged for forgiveness. We started therapy. I didn’t know if our marriage could survive, but I wasn’t ready to let go. Not of him. Not of her. I had spent years longing for a child—and here she was, even if not in the way I imagined.
Everyone told me to leave. But how could I walk away from Andrea? She wasn’t just his child anymore. She was ours. Our unexpected beginning. Not the life I planned—but maybe the one I was meant to live.