In Labor, He Denied His Own Child

The day I gave birth to our daughter, my husband, Julian Blackwood, threw a fake paternity test showing no blood relation in my face. “Harper, I’ve been so good to you. How could you cheat on me? We’re getting a divorce! Take this bastard child and leave with nothing. I never want to see either of you again!” I held my sleeping newborn daughter in my arms and calmly nodded. Just last night, I’d overheard them at the delivery room door. Julian’s adoptive sister, Stella Blackwood, was clinging to his arm, whining: “Julian, my dying wish is to spend a year alone with you, to relive our childhood affection. Can’t Harper just take the baby and leave for a year, please?” Julian’s face was full of doting affection. “Silly girl, don’t say such unlucky things. Just be a good girl and have your appendectomy. The next year, I’ll only be with you.” Lying on the operating table, tears silently streamed down my temples. He had no idea. The man who’d waited ten years for me would come to pick me up tomorrow. Not just for a year, but for this entire lifetime. I wouldn’t be coming back.