His Secret Child, My Shattered Dreams

s a familiar comfort, a stark cont

romise: no kids, just us. My childhood trauma, the sterile scent of a hos

n, enough to fac

control, and this morning, t

drove to his clinic, my heart

him through

but on Chloe Davis, a pregn

his expression tenderne

key charm-the matching ha

the sneakers tumbling

l smiles for his "rou

than?" I asked

acticed lie, b

een t

n going on for a year,

late nights, all of i

or a grandchild," he stammere

ical blow, turning my

ther as his parents, Richard and

Eleanor sneered, revealing their cruel plot: they had orc

gram post-a beaming Chloe, a so

caption read, stealing the name I' d whisp

s of my trying to ruin her life, the

r, then looked up at me, h

re trying to kill my

in my abdomen returned,

ion spread, staini

. The one I had d

cused on Chloe,

tomach, as my life' s greates

ly, utterly al