When everyone gathered, I took the microphone.
“Before we reveal the baby’s gender,” I said, “there’s something else you should know.”
The room went silent.
The screen behind her lit up.
She turned.
And I saw it—
the moment everything hit her.
THE EXPOSURE
I told them the truth.
My condition.
The procedure.
The fact that I couldn’t have children.
Then I showed the proof.
Medical reports.
Dates.
Facts.
The room filled with whispers.
Shock.
Confusion.
She panicked.
“What are you doing?” she said.
I didn’t stop.
“I don’t even know if she’s pregnant,” I added.
That changed everything.
Then came the messages.
