I used to believe that having a baby would finally change how Bob treated me. I thought that once we had a child, he’d love me the way I deserved. So, I planned a gender reveal party. I imagined it would bring us closer.
But when the day arrived, everything turned upside down. One unexpected guest showed up—and what she revealed forced me to make the hardest decision of my life.
They say when someone’s truly unhappy, they look for a way out. But when you’re in love, leaving isn’t easy. Love makes you blind to the truth. You keep hoping—maybe tomorrow will be different.
I knew that pain because I lived it.
I loved Bob with all my heart. Even when he hurt me with his words or made me feel small, I still clung to the love I thought we shared.
Bob wasn’t a drunk, he never hit me, and he helped around the house. But he was far from kind, and sometimes that hurt even more.
We’d been together for over five years. I believed we’d grow old together. But Bob kept dodging any talk about marriage. He’d always say, “Now’s not the time,” or “Why rush things?”
Then one day, I took a pregnancy test—and saw two pink lines.
I felt like I could fly.
This was it. Our moment.
I wanted to surprise him, so I placed the test in a pretty little box, cooked a special dinner, and waited at the table with butterflies in my stomach.
I wasn’t working anymore—Bob had insisted I stay home. He told me, “A woman’s place is in the house.” I didn’t argue, even though I loved my job as a music teacher. Teaching was my joy. But I gave it up for him.
Sometimes I played music at home—softly, when he wasn’t around. But when he lost his job, he sold my piano—my grandmother’s piano—without asking. I was heartbroken. Still, I said nothing. I told myself, We need money. I still have my guitar.
That night, when Bob came home, I lit candles and had everything set. The little box sat on my lap. He walked into the kitchen and frowned.
“What’s all this for?” he mumbled.
“Sit down,” I said, smiling.
He sat beside me, and I smelled something strange.
“Why do you smell like perfume?” I asked.
Bob rolled his eyes. “You probably sprayed it on yourself and now blame me. You just want to start a fight.”
My heart dropped. I knew it wasn’t my perfume. And it wasn’t the first time he came home like this—smelling like another woman, or with lipstick on his collar.
Still, I clung to hope. Maybe the baby will change him.
I handed him the box.
“Hope it’s something for fishing,” he said with a grin.
But when he opened it, his face twisted. “What the hell is this?”
“It’s a pregnancy test!” I said, excited. “We’re having a baby!”
Bob immediately dropped the test like it burned him. “Gross! You peed on that thing?”
“Who cares? We’re having a baby!” I repeated, still hopeful.
“Yeah, great,” he muttered. “Explains why you’ve been looking so fat lately.”
That hurt more than anything. This was supposed to be a happy moment. Instead, I felt crushed.
But I convinced myself that he just needed time. People always said that a woman becomes a mother the moment she gets pregnant, but a man doesn’t become a father until he holds the baby. So I kept believing.
One afternoon, the doorbell rang. I thought maybe Bob had come home early. I had an ultrasound appointment that day and hoped he remembered.
But it wasn’t Bob. It was his brother, Michael.
He stood there holding grocery bags. “Hey,” he said with a warm smile. “Heard the big news. Thought I’d stop by.”
He walked in and set the bags on the kitchen counter. “Brought you healthy stuff for the baby. And some chocolate too… you know, just in case.”
I laughed. “You didn’t have to. How did you find out? We haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Oh, Bob told me,” he said. “He’s been bragging. Keeps saying he’ll get Grandma’s full inheritance now.”
“What?” I blinked.
“Yeah,” Michael shrugged. “Grandma’s will says everything goes to the first grandchild. He’s been talking like he hopes she doesn’t last much longer.”
I felt sick.
“Are you okay?” Michael asked gently. “Is he treating you right?”
“He’s never hurt me,” I whispered.
Michael looked at me for a long moment. “You going alone to the ultrasound?”
I nodded.
“I’ll come with you,” he offered.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said. “You’re not alone in this.”
At the clinic, when I saw the baby on the screen and heard that tiny heartbeat, I burst into tears.
And when I turned to Michael, I saw him wiping his eyes, too.
Afterward, he took me to dinner and drove me home. When I showed Bob the ultrasound photos, he barely glanced at them.
“Cool,” he said. “Can’t even see anything in those fuzzy things.”
Time passed. My belly grew. Michael was always there—bringing gifts, checking on me, asking how I felt.
Bob barely noticed.
“You’re eating too much,” he said once. “You’re getting huge.”
I wanted to cry. But instead, I decided to do something to lift my spirits.
I planned a gender reveal. I asked the doctor not to tell me the baby’s sex—I wanted it to be a surprise, shared with family and friends.
When I told Bob, he exploded.
“Are you kidding me?! A gender reveal? For what? So you can waste more of my money?!”
“You’re the one who made me quit my job,” I reminded him.
“Because women don’t belong at work! They belong in the kitchen!”
I put my hand on my belly. I was shaking.
“Bob,” Michael said firmly, stepping in. “Can I talk to you?”
“Stay out of it!” Bob barked.
But Michael didn’t back down. They went into the kitchen. I quietly leaned closer.
“She’s crazy! Acting like she owns the place!” Bob snapped.
“She’s carrying your baby,” Michael replied.
“I’m not paying for some stupid party.”
“Then I’ll pay. But be decent,” Michael said.
“You just want her for yourself!” Bob growled. “Admit it!”
“She’ll leave you without my help if you keep treating her like garbage.”
They returned, and Bob grumbled, “Fine. Throw your stupid party.”
Michael walked out. I followed.
“I heard everything,” I said softly. “Thank you.”
“You know you deserve better,” he said gently. “He’s cheating on you. Why stay?”
“Because I love him.”
“Do you? Or are you just afraid?”
“I have nowhere to go,” I whispered.
“Yes, you do. You have me,” he said. Then he walked away before I could reply.
The days before the party, I kept thinking about his words. Maybe I was afraid. But I still hoped Bob would change.
The day of the reveal, Michael hosted it in his backyard because Bob refused to let me have it at our house.
Family and friends gathered. Michael greeted guests, but he looked distant. Something was on his mind.
Finally, it was time to cut the cake.
Bob and I stood together. I reached for the knife—but before I could touch it, a woman I had never seen shoved me aside and grabbed Bob’s arm.
They cut the cake together.
The inside was pink.
A girl.
My joy was instantly replaced by shock. Who was this woman?!
“What’s going on?!” I shouted.
“This is our surrogate,” the woman said sweetly. “Right, baby?”
“Yes, Stacey, that’s her,” Bob replied calmly.
My blood went cold.
“What surrogate?! I’m carrying your child!”
Bob sighed. “You really thought I was keeping the baby? Look at you. You’ve let yourself go. After birth, you’ll look even worse. Stacey’s beautiful—and she’s not even giving birth. We’re just taking the baby.”
“You can’t take my child!” I screamed.
“Oh, but I can,” Bob said. “You have no job, no home. No court will give you custody. You’re just the surrogate.”
I gasped. I turned—and saw Bob’s grandmother glaring at him.
“Alison,” Michael said behind me. I turned to look at him. “Will you marry me? I’ll raise this baby as my own.”
Tears ran down my cheeks. All the memories of him being there when Bob wasn’t—flooded over me.
“Yes,” I said, then kissed him. He kissed me back, gently.
“You can’t be serious!” Bob screamed. “That’s my baby! I still get the inheritance!”
“The true father is the one who loves and raises the child,” Grandma said sharply. “Don’t count on a single penny.”
“You planned this! All of you! Just to steal my money!” Bob shouted.
Michael stepped forward. “Unlike you, I love Alison. This has nothing to do with money. Now leave. Before I make you.”
Bob grabbed Stacey’s hand and stormed off.
I leaned into Michael’s arms.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Always,” he replied.