The Truth
I asked about the sudden kindness — the meals, the smiles, the notes.
“That was me protecting myself and the baby,” she said. “Stress is dangerous in pregnancy. Anger, resentment — they don’t help anyone. So I made a choice. I chose calm. I chose peace, even when I didn’t feel it.”
“But you were so kind,” I said. “You seemed… happy.”
She smiled faintly. “I was. Not about what you did. That still hurts more than you’ll ever understand. But I was happy about the baby. About the chance to bring something good into the world. I realized I could hold both truths — grief and gratitude — at the same time.”
Then she reached across the table and took my hand. “I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you. Forgiveness isn’t a light switch. But I want to try. I want to give this family a chance to heal.”
I started crying. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Probably not,” she said, smiling through tears. “But marriage isn’t about deserving. It’s about choosing. And right now, I’m choosing to believe you can become the man you promised to be.”
Six Months Later
It’s been half a year since that night. Sarah is eight months pregnant now — glowing, exhausted, beautiful. We found out it’s a girl. Sarah chose her name: Grace.
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