Two weeks later, I sat alone in the doctor’s office, my hands trembling on my lap. Diego refused to come. He said he didn’t want to “pretend to be happy about another man’s baby.”
The ultrasound technician smiled at me gently. “Ready to see your baby?”
I nodded, tears already forming.
The wand moved across my belly, and the room filled with a strong, fast heartbeat.
Then the technician froze.
“Laura… there are two heartbeats.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re having twins.”
I started laughing and crying at the same time. For one beautiful moment, I forgot about the pain. I had two little miracles growing inside me despite Diego’s vasectomy.
I sent him the ultrasound photo with the caption: “Twins. They’re yours. Come home.”
He didn’t reply for three days.
When he finally showed up, he wasn’t alone. Paola stood beside him with a smug look on her face.
Diego threw the ultrasound picture on the table.
“Nice try, Laura. Twins? Really? You expect me to believe that?”
Paola rubbed her own flat stomach. “Some women will do anything to trap a man.”
That was when I realized how deep the betrayal went.
