I used to believe that having a baby would change everything. That somehow, a tiny heartbeat would make Bob love me the way I loved him. I even planned a gender reveal party—thinking it might bring us closer.
But when that day finally came, one unexpected guest turned my whole life upside down. And right there, in front of everyone, I had to make the hardest choice I’d ever faced.
They say when you’re miserable, you look for a way out. But when you’re in love, it’s not so easy. Love makes you ignore red flags. Love makes you stay—hoping things will change.
I wasn’t speaking from someone else’s story. This was my life.
I loved Bob with everything I had. We’d been together over five years. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but I never asked for perfect. He didn’t hit me, he didn’t drink, and he helped out around the house. That seemed like enough.
Still, there was something missing. Whenever I brought up marriage, he always had a new excuse. “It’s not the right time.” “Let’s wait a little longer.” So I waited.
Then I saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test—and I thought, this is the right time. Now he’d have to commit. Now things would change.
I was overjoyed. I cooked dinner, lit candles, and put the test inside a little box. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction.
I didn’t have a job anymore—because Bob insisted I stay home. He said, “Women shouldn’t work. It’s better this way.” I gave up being a music teacher, even though it was my dream. I still played guitar sometimes, but only when Bob was in a good mood.
After he lost his job, things got harder. One day, he sold my piano—my grandmother’s piano—without even asking. He said we needed the money. I didn’t even fight him. I just kept hoping things would get better.
That evening, Bob came home. I sat at the dinner table, nervous and excited.
“What’s all this?” he asked with a frown.
“Just sit down,” I said softly.
As he sat, I caught a whiff of something sharp and sweet—women’s perfume. I looked at him. “Why do you smell like perfume?”
Bob scowled. “You probably sprayed it on yourself and now want to start a fight. You’re always picking fights.”
I swallowed my suspicion. Maybe this baby would make things better.
I handed him the box. “Surprise.”
Bob opened it and looked confused. “What is this?” he asked, holding the test.
“It’s a pregnancy test!” I smiled. “We’re having a baby!”
Bob dropped the test like it was on fire. “Ugh! That’s disgusting! You peed on that thing!”
“That’s not the point! We’re going to be parents!” I said excitedly.
“Yeah, sure,” he muttered. “I was wondering why you’ve been looking so fat lately.”
His words hit like a punch. But at least he didn’t run away… right?
I clung to hope. Maybe once he held the baby, things would change.
But the perfume never stopped. The late nights didn’t stop. Neither did the lipstick stains.
Then one day, the doorbell rang. I thought it might be Bob. I had an ultrasound appointment and hoped he’d come with me.
Instead, it was Michael—Bob’s brother—holding two big grocery bags.
“Hey,” he said with a warm smile. “Heard the good news. Thought I’d bring you some stuff. Vitamins, healthy snacks… and a bit of chocolate in case you crave something sweet.”
I laughed. “You really didn’t have to.”
“Bob told me,” he said casually. “Been bragging nonstop. Said he’s getting Grandma’s inheritance soon. He even joked that he hopes she doesn’t have long left.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“Grandma’s will says everything goes to the first grandchild,” Michael explained.
I stared at him, speechless.
“How are you doing? Is Bob treating you okay?” he asked gently.
“He’s never hurt me,” I answered. Michael looked at me like he didn’t believe that was the whole story.
“I have my first ultrasound today,” I added. “But I’m scared to go alone…”
“I’ll come with you,” Michael said without hesitation.
“Really? You must be busy.”
“For you? Never too busy.”
At the appointment, I saw my baby for the first time. I heard the heartbeat. Tears streamed down my face. I looked over and saw Michael wiping his eyes too.
He took me to dinner afterward. When I got home, I showed Bob the ultrasound photos.
“Cool,” he said flatly. “Can’t see anything in those pictures anyway.”
Time passed. My belly grew. Michael never stopped supporting me—gifts, food, check-ins. But Bob? He only commented on my weight.
“You’re eating too much,” he said one day. “Getting huge.”
When it was time to find out the gender, I asked the doctor not to tell me. I wanted to find out at a party—with loved ones, all together.
Bob wasn’t happy about it.
“You want a gender reveal party? Are you kidding me?” he yelled when I told him.
“I want to celebrate,” I said softly.
“With what money?! You don’t work! You sit around all day, and now you want to waste my money?”
“You told me to quit my job…”
“Because women shouldn’t work! They’re not good at it anyway!”
I wrapped my arms around my belly, trying not to cry.
“Bob, can I talk to you for a second?” Michael said firmly.
“Mind your business!” Bob snapped.
“Just a minute.”
I listened from the hallway.
“She’s out of control,” Bob said.
“She’s carrying your child. You should be grateful,” Michael replied.
“I’m not wasting money on this crap!”
“I’ll pay. But you better act like a decent human being,” Michael warned.
“Oh, I get it. You want her. You’re trying to steal my woman!”
“She’ll leave you on her own if you don’t change.”
When they came back, Bob muttered, “Fine. Have your stupid party.”
After they left the kitchen, I quietly thanked Michael.
“I overheard you,” I said.
“You know he’s cheating on you. Why do you stay?” he asked softly.
“Because I love him.”
“Or are you just scared to leave?”
“I have nowhere to go.”
“Yes, you do,” he said. “Even if you never come to me, I’ll always help you.”
I couldn’t speak. He turned and walked to his car.
For days, I kept thinking about what he said.
Then came the gender reveal party. Michael hosted it—because Bob refused to let me do anything at our home.
My family came. Bob’s family came. Michael looked kind but distant, like something was weighing on his heart.
When it was time to cut the cake, Bob and I stood together in front of everyone. Just as we reached for the knife, a woman I had never seen shoved me aside.
She cut the cake with Bob.
The inside was pink. We were having a girl.
At first, I felt joy. Then confusion.
“Who is this?!” I shouted.
“This is our surrogate,” the woman said sweetly, leaning on Bob.
“Yes, Stacey, that’s her,” Bob said calmly.
“What surrogate?! This is my baby!” I yelled.
Bob didn’t flinch. “Stop it, Alison. You didn’t think I was really going to raise a kid with you, did you? Look at yourself. You’ve let yourself go. You’re not pretty anymore. After birth, you’ll look even worse. Stacey’s beautiful—and she won’t even give birth. We’re just taking your baby.”
“You can’t take my child!” I sobbed.
“Oh, I can,” he said coldly. “You don’t have a job, a home, or money. You can’t take care of yourself, let alone a baby. You’re just a surrogate. I’ll take the baby and the inheritance.”
Then Bob’s grandmother stood up, face furious.
“The real parent is the one who loves and raises the child,” she said sharply. “Don’t count on inheriting anything.”
Suddenly, Michael stepped forward.
“Alison, will you marry me?” he asked. “I’ll raise this baby like my own.”
I gasped. All those memories—his kindness, his support, his strength—they flooded me.
“Yes,” I whispered, and kissed him.
“Are you both insane?!” Bob screamed. “That’s my baby! I get the inheritance!”
“Not anymore,” Grandma snapped.
“You planned this! You’re all against me!” Bob shouted.
Michael stepped closer. “I love Alison. I don’t care about the inheritance. Now get out—before I make you.”
Bob grabbed Stacey’s hand and stormed off, fuming.
I turned and wrapped my arms around Michael, crying softly.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Always,” he replied, holding me close.