Jay, standing in the softly lit nursery, held his one-year-old son, Zander, who gurgled contentedly in his arms. You watched as Jay tried to find the right words to introduce you to his son, whose innocent eyes gazed back at him.

Jay took a deep breath, finally saying “Zander , this is your sister.”

You blinked, your jaw dropping slightly as you processed his words. Sister? You were his wife, not his daughter.

Turning to Jay, you shot him a bewildered look, silently demanding an explanation. He glanced back at you, clearly flustered, then leaned in with a half-smile and whispered, “Trust me—it just makes this easier for him right now.”

But you couldn’t help but feel caught off guard. Easier? You wondered if Zander, even at this young age, could sense the awkwardness between you and Jay, as if even he could tell this new “sister” was a bit too close to his father.