While Emma is sitting at her desk one afternoon, she gets a surprise delivery. When she opens the box, she finds a cake with an unsettling message and the pregnancy test she forgot to hide. Will she go home and explain the truth to her husband or let him walk away?
I was at my desk, half-typing an email, half-daydreaming about what to make for dinner when the office delivery guy appeared at my office door. He held a bright pink bakery box in his hands, grinning from ear to ear like he was in on some inside joke I didn’t know about.
A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
“Good afternoon, Emma!” he said enthusiastically. “This is for you!”
“Thank you, Nico,” I said, blinking as he handed me the box.
I hadn’t ordered anything. There were no birthdays or work celebrations planned. So, who would be sending me a cake? My stomach fluttered with curiosity. My husband, Jake, was one of the head bakers at a fancy bakery in town. So, maybe this was just a little treat from him.
A baker in a bakery | Source: Midjourney
The office buzzed with its usual energy, phones ringing, keyboards clacking, people laughing in the break room, everyone just wanted to get out for the day. But in that moment, it all faded into the background. I slowly untied the ribbon, lifted the lid, and froze.
Scrawled across the top of the cake in black frosting were four words that turned my blood cold:
I am divorcing you.
I stared at the words, blinking in disbelief. But there was more!
Placed neatly on the cake, next to the damning message, was a positive pregnancy test.
A cake with a message and a pregnancy test | Source: AmoMama
My heart dropped into my stomach.
Jake had found it. He’d found the pregnancy test that I’d thrown into the bathroom trash this morning, the same test that I was supposed to pick up and bring with me, easy to hide from Jake.
But I was late, and I had forgotten. Now, this? The cake… this was Jake’s response? Divorce. A cake with a slap-in-the-face message.
A pregnancy test in a bin | Source: Midjourney
I gripped the edge of my desk to steady myself, I could feel a panic attack almost rising to the surface. This wasn’t just some cruel joke. Jake thought I had cheated on him.
Why else would he send this?
I closed the box, my mind racing.
Jake had been told years ago that he was infertile. And he believed that there was no way this child could be his. He thought I’d betrayed him, that I’d gone behind his back after everything we’ve been through.
A closed cake box | Source: Midjourney
The truth, though?
The truth was far more complicated.
I hadn’t cheated. Of course not. I hadn’t been with anyone but Jake. The pregnancy test was mine, yes, but I hadn’t told him yet because I needed confirmation from the doctor first.
Honestly, Jake and I had been through so much heartbreak trying to have a baby that I couldn’t stand the idea of getting his hopes up, only to have them crushed.
An upset couple | Source: Midjourney
I remembered our conversation from three years ago.
“I think we should just stop trying for a while,” I said, sitting on our bed.
“What do you mean, Em?” Jake asked. “Just like that, stop trying?”
“We’ve been trying for a baby for the past eighteen months, Jake. I think our bodies need a moment to breathe.”
“You mean my body?” he asked. “It seems like mine is the problem. The doctors have told us that it’s my fault. It’s my sperm. So, yeah. Let’s stop…”
A woman on the bed | Source: Midjourney
After that, it took a lot of work for Jake and me to get back on our feet as a steady couple. Without the pressure of trying to have a baby, we could barely function.
But now, my husband thought the worst of me.
Grabbing the box, I packed up my things and rushed out of the office, ignoring the concerned looks from my coworkers. I didn’t have time to explain. All I could think about was getting home, facing Jake, and explaining the truth.
A woman driving | Source: Midjourney
When I walked through the front door, I saw him immediately. Jake was pacing back and forth across the living room, his face flushed, his body tense with fury.
He turned the second I stepped inside, his eyes wild.
“Tell me the test wasn’t yours!” he shouted.
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
I placed the cake box gently on the kitchen counter and stood still, facing him.
“It is mine, honey,” I said.
Jake’s expression didn’t soften. He looked angrier; he looked ready to explode.
“If you want a divorce, I won’t stop you,” I continued. “But before you walk away from us, there’s something you need to know.”
A pensive woman | Source: Midjourney
His hands balled into fists at his side.
“What could you possibly say, Emma? I thought you loved me. And yet, here you are, having someone else’s baby?”
“Jake, listen to me!” I interrupted. “This baby is yours. You’re going to be a father!”
The words hung in the air.
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
Jake stopped pacing, his brow furrowed. For a moment, he just stared at me as if trying to process what I had said. Then he shook his head, his voice trembling with disbelief.
“No. That’s not possible. Emma, I’m infertile. The doctors said it. We’ve been over this for years.”
“Darling, the doctors were wrong,” I said, stepping closer to him. “I went to see Dr. Harper this morning after I took the test. I didn’t want you to see the test before I spoke to her because false positives happen more often than not. She explained everything to me.”
A smiling doctor | Source: Midjourney
My husband’s eyes searched mine, filled with confusion, but he didn’t interrupt me this time. I took a deep breath, knowing it was the time to explain it all, even though I wasn’t entirely sure he’d believe me.
“Jake,” I began. “You were never completely infertile. Dr. Harper told me that you’ve had a condition called oligospermia. It means that your sperm count was low, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t have children. Dr. Harper said that it’s likely that the stress from trying and failing to conceive over the years might have made it worse.”
Jake just looked at me, unable to speak.
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“Baby, you were never completely unable to have kids…”
My husband’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He sank into the armchair as he processed everything I said.
I watched as the anger drained from his face, replaced with a veil of sheer disbelief. He buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as the realization hit him.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Oh my God, Emma,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought you cheated on me. I thought you found someone else because I couldn’t… I thought I couldn’t give you what you always wanted.”
He trailed off, his words dissolving into sobs.
The man I had spent years loving, the man who had been so strong through all our struggles, was breaking down in front of me.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I stood there, watching him crumble, my own heart aching in ways I couldn’t describe. I knew that I should have been happy at this new development in our lives.
I mean, I was finally pregnant after years of trying. This was joy. But I was hurt that Jake had jumped to the worst conclusion, that he hadn’t even asked me before sending that awful cake.
But I understood, too. I understood the years of insecurity, the pain we’d both been through trying to have a child.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so sorry,” Jake said after a while. “I thought… I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t move. I just let him sit there and cry, let him process everything. He apologized over and over, each word dripping with regret. He had been ready to walk away, to end everything because of a misunderstanding, because of his own fears.
But now, now he knew the truth.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t deserve you,” he said. “I don’t deserve this chance. But I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you every day. I promise. I’ll be the best father. I’ll be the best husband!”
I felt a lump rise in my throat. This wasn’t how I had imagined telling him. I had dreamed of the moment we’d finally get the news we’d waited so long for. I’d pictured his joy, his tears of happiness. But not this. Not this mess.
But as I stood there, looking at my husband who had just crumbled to pieces, I realized that despite everything, we had been given the one thing we thought we’d never have.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
A baby.
A future.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whispered, my voice cracking. And for the first time in a long time, I saw hope in Jake’s eyes. When my husband reached for me, this time, I didn’t pull away. We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of a pregnancy and a baby resting on our shoulders.
A couple embracing | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Hired a Fake Boyfriend for Our Family Dinner – It Turned Out to Be the Best Decision of My Life
Family gatherings were the worst for Lara, especially since her sister, Emily, began to make fun of her love life, or lack thereof. Determined to sit through her father’s birthday dinner, Lara decides to hire a boyfriend for the night. Little did she know that something reminiscent of a romantic comedy would soon play out.
I love my family, but family gatherings used to be a nightmare for me. Every single time we got together, my sister Emily would find some way or the other to poke fun at my single life.
Two smiling women | Source: Midjourney
Last Thanksgiving, she took it too far and even set a place at the table for my “imaginary boyfriend,” complete with a hand-drawn face on a napkin. Everyone around the table laughed while I forced a smile.
“It’s funny, Lara!” she would say whenever I brought up the incident.
It was anything but funny.
A dinner table | Source: Midjourney
Now, my father’s birthday is coming up, and of course, it was to be celebrated with a family dinner.
“There’s no way I can sit through another one of those events with my family,” I told my friend, Kate, when we met for coffee.
“I’m telling you now, Emily probably has something up her sleeve already,” I grumbled.
Two women at a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
“Then just hire someone out for the night!” Kate chuckled, adding sugar to her coffee.
“Hire a man?” I exclaimed.
“Yes! My sister did it through an agency. She didn’t want to go to her ex-boyfriend’s wedding by herself, so she found the agency. Look, it’s all above board and the guys do exactly what you need them to do.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“It’s not… sleazy?” I asked, trying to think of a better word.
I Last Saw My Daughter 13 Years Ago, Yesterday I Got a Letter from My Grandson I Never Knew About
I lost my daughter 13 years ago when my wife left me for another man. Yesterday, I got a letter addressed to ‘Grandpa Steve,’ and my heart nearly stopped when I read what had happened.
Thirteen years. That’s how long it had been since I last saw my daughter, Alexandra. She was only 13 when Carol, my ex-wife, packed up and left. I was 37.
Young teen girl with blue eyes smiling | Source: Midjourney
I still remember the day like it was yesterday. It was a warm, sticky summer evening, and I came home from work to find Carol sitting at the kitchen table, perfectly calm, waiting for me.
Back then, I was just a construction foreman in Chicago. Our company wasn’t huge, but we built all kinds of stuff: roads, office buildings, you name it. I worked my tail off with long days, scorching summers, and freezing winters.
Man working in construction | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t exactly a glamorous job, but it paid the bills and then some. My boss, Richard, owned the company. He was older than me, always wore fancy suits, and had this fake smile that bugged me.
The guy loved to show off his money. He drove expensive cars and threw parties at his huge mansion outside of town. Carol, my wife, ate that stuff up. She loved getting dressed up and pretending she was part of that crowd. Meanwhile, I always felt like a fish out of water at those things.
Woman laughing at a party | Source: Midjourney
But perhaps, if I’d paid more attention, I would’ve seen my wife’s next move.
“Steve, this just isn’t working anymore,” she said in a clipped voice, like she was reading from a script.
I blinked at her, confused. “What are you talking about?”
She let out a small sigh. “I’m leaving. Richard and I are in love. I’m taking Alexandra. She needs a better life than this.”
The phrase “better life” still makes me angry. I worked hard, harder than most to provide Carol and Alexandra with everything they needed. We had a decent house in the Chicago suburbs, food on the table, and clothes to wear. Sure, it wasn’t fancy.
A house in the suburbs | Source: Midjourney
We didn’t go on vacations or have designer anything, but it was more than many people had. I didn’t understand what was so wrong with it. Carol, however, always wanted more: more money, more luxury, more of everything.
Therefore, she left to shack up with my boss, and my life was shattered. I still tried to be a good father to my daughter. But Carol poisoned her against me. I believe she told her I didn’t care about her and that I had been unfaithful.
Mother gossiping to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know. What I do know is that eventually, my daughter stopped answering my calls and opening my letters. I no longer existed to her.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of my misfortunes. I spiraled into a depression and ignored my health until I ended up in a hospital bed, facing surgery after surgery. The medical bills were so high that I had to sell my house.
Eventually, my job let me go for taking too many days off, although not working for Richard anymore was a blessing.
During this time, Carol moved out of state with my ex-boss, and my Alexandra was gone for good.
Man in construction clothes sadly sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
The years crept slowly by. I never remarried. I never wanted to. Instead, I worked hard to rebuild my health and focused on founding my own construction business. With that, I managed to claw my way back to a stable, if lonely, life.
At 50, I lived in a decent apartment, and I was financially independent. But there were many moments when I wanted my daughter back.
Wistful man in an apartment | Source: Midjourney
Then, yesterday, something happened that shook me to my core. I found a letter in my mailbox with a child’s handwriting, though they must have gotten help from an adult to address it.
The front said: “For Grandpa Steve.”
For a moment, I just stared at it. My hands started shaking. Grandpa? I wasn’t a grandpa. Or at least, I didn’t think I was. I tore the envelope open, and the first line nearly stopped my heart.
Man holding a letter saying “For Grandpa Steve” | Source: Midjourney
“Hi, Grandpa! My name is Adam. I’m 6! Unfortunately, you’re the only family I have left…”
I walked back to the house without thinking and sat on the couch to continue to read the letter. This Adam had help with some of the sentences, but he had written everything in these big, uneven letters.
It made me smile until Iread that he lived in a group home in St. Louis and that his mom, Alexandra, had mentioned me in passing.
He ended his message with: “Please come find me.”
Man holding a letter saying “Please come find me” | Source: Midjourney
Of course, I’d booked the earliest flight to St. Louis.
I didn’t sleep that night. How could I? Questions swirled in my mind. How did I have a grandson? Where was Alexandra? Why was he in a home?
Early the next morning, I was at the airport, and a few hours later, I was getting out of a taxi.
The shelter was a plain brick building with chipped paint and a sagging awning that read St. Anne’s Children’s Home. A woman named Mrs. Johnson met me in the lobby. She was around my age, with kind eyes and a soft voice.
Woman smiling at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
“You must be Steve,” she said, shaking my hand. “Adam’s been waiting for you.”
“Where is he? Is he really my grandson?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care.
“I’ll let you meet him soon,” she said gently, guiding me into her office. “But there’s something you need to know first. Please, have a seat.”
It was in that tiny room, filled with folders and surrounded by pictures of kids, that my life changed.
Man smiling in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
First, Mrs. Johnson confirmed that Adam was Alexandra’s son. She said she had greeted them herself the day my daughter surrendered custody of him, just a few months ago.
Mrs. Johnson told me the entire story in detail. Alexandra’s life had fallen apart after Carol kicked her out for getting pregnant at 20 without a husband. The father had left, of course.
Sad pregnant young woman at a bus stop | Source: Midjourney
Afterward, my daughter tried to make things work, juggling low-paying jobs while raising Adam in a tiny apartment. Then, a year ago, she met a rich man named David, who promised her a better life. But, he didn’t want someone else’s kid.
“That’s why she left him here,” Mrs. Johnson said. “She said she hoped he’d find a good home. I don’t think she knew how to love him even after all those years she raised him. It’s tragic, really.”
Woman at a desk in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
My stomach turned. Alexandra had abandoned her own child. My Alexandra? How had it come to this? And then, I realized what had happened. She had spent six years living a harrowing life and traded it for a wealthy man. Just like her mother. It wasn’t a completely equal situation, but it was close.
It was what Carol had taught her.
“And Adam?” I asked hoarsely. “How does he know about me?”
Emotional man in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson smiled faintly. “He’s a smart boy. Apparently, he’d overheard your name during conversations Alexandra had with others. He even found an old diary that mentioned you. When she left him here, he told me he had a grandpa named Steve. I did some digging and found you. Then, we wrote the letter together.”
I nodded, still reeling, but Mrs. Johnson stood and walked to the door. “You know everything,” she smiled. “Adam’s outside in the playground. Are you ready to meet him?”
Woman smirking at the door of an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
I nodded and followed her with my heart pounding in my ears.
***
Adam was small for his age, with shaggy brown hair and big blue eyes that looked just like Alexandra’s. He clutched a toy truck in one hand and looked up at me with curiosity and just a tad of shyness.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
“Hi, Adam,” I said, keeping my voice steady. I knelt so we were at eye level. “I’m your grandpa.”
Man smiling at an outdoor playground at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
His eyes widened immediately, and a huge smile broke out on his face. “You’re finally here!” He jumped up and hugged me. “I knew you’d come!”
While I embraced my grandson for the very first time, I thought back to my life. I could hate Carol all I wanted. What’s more, that anger would probably get even stronger, considering that my daughter had turned into a version of her mother somewhere along the way.
But it was time to focus on what mattered. My grandson was in my arms, and he had been abandoned, just like me. That cycle ended here. Adam wasn’t going to grow up feeling unloved or unwanted. I didn’t care what it took. I was going to give him a home.
A boy with blue eyes smiling | Source: Midjourney
Minutes later, I told Mrs. Johnson, I wanted Adam with me, and she smiled. I noticed a sheen of tears in her eyes, but I didn’t mention it.
It was going to take some paperwork and time before I could take Adam back to Chicago. But Mrs. Johnson was confident there would be no issues if I took a DNA test to prove I’m his grandfather.
I promised to do that soon enough.
Man shaking hands with a woman at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
Honestly, it’s strange how life works. Thirteen years ago, I lost my daughter. I thought I’d lost everything. But now, I had a grandson, and my whole life made sense again.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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