While Emma sat at her desk, an unexpected delivery arrived—a bright pink bakery box. The office buzzed as usual, but everything faded as she opened the box. Her blood ran cold.
Scrawled on the cake were four words: I am divorcing you. Beside the message was a positive pregnancy test.
Jake had found it. Emma’s heart sank. Her husband, who had been told he was infertile, now thought she’d cheated on him. Grabbing the box, she rushed home, dreading the confrontation.
When she walked in, Jake was pacing, furious. “Tell me the test isn’t yours!” he shouted.
“It is mine,” Emma admitted, her voice trembling. She explained through his anger that the baby was his, that the doctors were wrong—Jake wasn’t infertile, just had a low sperm count.
Disbelief crossed Jake’s face. He collapsed into a chair, the anger draining from him. “I thought you cheated,” he said, breaking down. “I’m so sorry.”
Emma stood there, watching the man she loved crumble. Her heart ached for him. But despite the mess, there was hope. They had a future, a baby they’d longed for.
“We’ll figure it out,” Emma whispered. Jake reached for her, and this time, she didn’t pull away. They embraced, knowing their lives were about to change forever.
