My Wife Came Home Pregnant After Her Vacation — Then I Discovered Why She Expected Me to Raise Another Man’s Child
Chapter 1
I knew something was wrong the moment Claire walked through the front door.
She had been away for twelve days.
A luxury vacation with two friends in Greece.
At least, that was what she told me.
I had stayed home because of work.
When she left, everything between us seemed normal.
When she returned, she barely looked at me.
She dropped her suitcase near the stairs and gave me a quick kiss.
“Miss me?”
“Of course.”
I smiled.
But there was something different about her.
She avoided my eyes.
She was quieter than usual.
And when I reached for her suitcase, she pulled it away.
“I can take it.”
I frowned.
“Claire?”
“I’m tired.”
She walked upstairs.
I stood there watching her disappear.
Three days later, she told me she was pregnant.
I stared at her.
“What?”
She smiled.
“I’m pregnant.”
I couldn’t speak.
We had been trying to have a child for almost four years.
Doctors had never found a simple explanation.
We had undergone treatments.
Tests.
Appointments.
Hope.
Disappointment.
And now she was pregnant.
But instead of feeling joy, I felt something I couldn’t explain.
Confusion.
“You took a test?”
“Several.”
She sat beside me.
“We’re finally going to have a baby.”
I looked at her.
“When did you find out?”
“While I was away.”
My stomach tightened.
“On the vacation?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
I tried to smile.
But something inside me refused.
The dates didn’t make sense.
Claire had left on June third.
The pregnancy test had apparently been positive on June tenth.
She had told the doctor she was approximately six weeks pregnant.
I did the math.
Six weeks meant conception happened before the vacation.
But she had been with me every day.
At least, I thought she had.
I didn’t accuse her.
Not immediately.
I simply asked:
“Are you sure the doctor is right?”
She stared at me.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason.”
She smiled.
Then placed her hand over mine.
“I want you to promise me something.”
“What?”
“No matter what happens, you’ll take care of this baby.”
I looked at her.
The sentence felt wrong.
Not romantic.
Not emotional.
Almost rehearsed.
I didn’t promise.
And that night, for the first time since she returned, I checked the calendar.
Then I checked it again.
The dates didn’t lie.
Something was very wrong.
