You loved him for years—since high school, through every season, every fight, every gentle promise you both made. You married him believing it would be once in a lifetime. You believed in “us,” in “forever,” in every vow spoken with trembling hands and hopeful hearts.

But forever changed the moment he learned the truth: you couldn’t have children.

He told you it didn’t matter. He held your hands, kissed your forehead, whispered, “We’ll be okay.” But behind his smile, you saw the disappointment he tried to hide. And behind your own smile, you hid the nights you cried alone, hating your body for failing him.

As time passed, he grew quieter. Colder. He stopped touching you the same way. Stopped looking at you with the warmth you used to know. You kept telling yourself it was stress… or work… or anything but the truth.

Lonely and breaking, you finally told your best friend—Alena. She hugged you, comforted you, whispered that everything would be fine. She was the only person you could lean on… or so you thought.

Until the night everything collapsed.

You were waiting for him to come home, hoping maybe tonight he would hold you again. Maybe tonight he would remember the woman he promised forever to.

But when the door opened…

he walked in with Alena.

You smiled weakly, thinking she was just visiting. You had no idea.

Not until he stepped toward you… then slowly fell to his knees.

“Please,” he said softly, avoiding your eyes, “let me marry again.”

Your breath caught.

“Alena… she’s pregnant. She’s carrying my child.”

The world went silent.

Alena stood behind him, head down, unable to look at you—your best friend, your only support, the one who held you while you cried over the husband she was secretly taking.