Blake came out smiling, kissed my forehead, rubbed my belly, and said, “Daddy’s taking care of you.” I smiled back and asked him to make me some tea.
That night, I decided not to confront him in private. In private, he would cry. Harper would cry. Some would say I was exaggerating because I was pregnant.
No. If they were to betray me, they would do it in broad daylight.
The next morning I took a screenshot of everything. Then I called a party supply store.
“I need a reveal box,” I said. “Not pink or blue. Black balloons. With a word printed on each one.”
“What word?”
“CHEATING.”
Saturday arrived. The courtyard filled with family and friends. Blake mingled with the crowd, basking in the congratulations. Harper arrived smiling, standing a little too close.
We gathered around the box. The phones were ringing. Someone started the countdown.
When we lifted the lid, black balloons flew into the air.
Each printed in silver:
CHEAT.
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