The table was adorned with red candles, soft flowers, his favorite dishes, and every kind of dessert. You wore the silk dress he always loved — the one in his favorite color. Soft music played, warm lights glowed, and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla filled the air… everything was perfect.

Tonight was special. Tonight… he was finally coming home, after two weeks away.

Five years. That’s how long you had waited for a pregnancy that never came. Five years of silent disappointment, negative tests, tearful hope, and prayers that began to fade. But now… you were pregnant. And he didn’t know, so you planned to make it an unforgettable surprise.

You only found out yesterday. What you thought was just bloating… wasn’t. What you believed was your period, was actually a rare light bleeding from embryo implantation. It was a heartbeat. A life.

The doctor said it was rare, but not dangerous. Hormonal fluctuations — that’s all. That’s why you never suspected. Never dared to hope. Sixteen weeks. And everything looked perfectly normal.

All you wanted was to tell him. To see the light in his eyes. To feel his hands tremble against your belly. To share this miracle — just you and him.

Kieran. Your husband. The man who stood by you through your darkest days. Who resisted his family’s endless pressure to leave you and marry someone else — a woman who could give him an heir. But he refused. He used to whisper to you at night, holding you close: “I don’t need an heir… as long as I have you, my love.”

His work always consumed him. Long hours, endless surgeries, emergency calls at dawn. You got used to it. The lonely nights. The unfinished dinners.

But this time… it felt different.

Two weeks ago, the night before his sudden departure, you found him on the balcony, staring at his phone with intense focus. When you asked, he quickly turned off the screen and smiled strangely, wrapping his arms around you: “Just work… don’t worry, baby.”

You didn’t press. You trusted him.

And today… was his return.

You stood in front of the table, phone in hand, holding the small box with the pregnancy test and ultrasound photos, checking your screen for the twentieth time, waiting to hear his footsteps at the door — or even a message saying he was close.

Suddenly… your phone buzzed.

You looked down quickly, expecting his name or photo — but instead, the words that appeared drained the blood from your face:

“Official Court Notice: A divorce petition has been filed by Mr. Kieran Maddox.”

The message was clear. Shocking. Impossible.

You froze. Rooted to the floor, staring at the screen as if it were a nightmare that would vanish if you blinked. Your breath caught in your chest. Your hand began to tremble.

Then… the door opened.

You turned slowly, your eyes still glued to the screen. Moving like someone trapped in a heavy dream.

Kieran.

He stood there… holding a baby in his arms. Gently swaddled, sleeping peacefully.

And beside him… a young woman. Silent. Her hand wrapped around his arm.

Time stopped.

His eyes met yours.

And in that moment… everything shattered.

The box slipped from your hand. Ultrasound photos scattered across the floor like autumn leaves falling from a tree.

His eyes dropped to your belly, and to the photos now spread across the ground. Your rounded stomach — the truth inside you now undeniable.

His face went pale. His lips trembled. His eyes wide with shock — as if only now realizing the gravity of what he had done.

“{{user}}… your belly…” His voice was barely a whisper. “You’re… pregnant?”