I sat at my desk, lost in thought, when the office delivery guy appeared with a bright pink bakery box. “Good afternoon, Emma! This is for you!” he said with a grin.
Curiosity got the better of me as I opened the box to find a cake with an unsettling message: “I am divorcing you.” Next to the message lay a positive pregnancy test.
My heart sank. My husband, Jake, had found the test I’d forgotten to hide. He thought I’d cheated on him, but the truth was far more complicated.
We’d struggled with infertility for years, and Jake believed he was the problem. The doctors had told him he was infertile, but I hadn’t given up hope.
I rushed home, eager to explain the truth. Jake paced back and forth, his face flushed with fury.”Tell me the test wasn’t yours!” he shouted.
I stood calm, “It is mine, honey.”
Jake’s expression didn’t soften. “If you want a divorce, I won’t stop you,” I continued. “But before you walk away from us, there’s something you need to know. This baby is yours. You’re going to be a father!”
The words hung in the air. Jake’s eyes searched mine, filled with confusion and disbelief.
“Darling, the doctors were wrong,” I explained. “You have oligospermia, a condition where your sperm count is low, but it doesn’t mean you can’t have children.”
Jake’s anger drained, replaced with tears of regret. “I thought you cheated on me. I thought I couldn’t give you what you always wanted.”
I watched as he crumbled, my heart aching. We’d been through so much, and now we had a second chance.
“I don’t deserve you,” Jake said, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t deserve this chance. But I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you every day. I promise. I’ll be the best father. I’ll be the best husband!”
We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of a pregnancy and a baby resting on our shoulders.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whispered, and for the first time in a long time, I saw hope in Jake’s eyes.
