Refused to Raise His Best Friend’s Child

My husband, Marcus, brushed off my objections and donated his sperm to his childhood best friend, Camille—all because she had a terminal illness and wanted a child.

Afterward, he dismissed my feelings with a casual shrug.

“Camille doesn’t have much time left, Audrey. Why would you start trouble with someone so sick? I promise, once she has the baby, I’ll make sure the kid calls you Mom.”

Everyone assumed I was head over heels for Marcus, completely devoted—convinced I’d never walk away.

But this time, I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. The next day, I booked a flight and left the country.

I ran into Marcus again two years later at our high school reunion.

The second I walked into the private room, he thrust a toddler into my arms, his face oozing arrogance.

“Audrey, you’ve been throwing a fit for two years. Don’t you think it’s time to get over it? If you apologize to me in front of everyone, I might just let you be a mother to my child!”

The crowd snickered behind their hands, murmuring about how lucky I was—how I’d “landed a ready-made family” without lifting a finger.

I just held up my left hand, flashing my wedding ring.

“No thanks. I already have a child and a husband. I don’t need to raise someone else’s kid!”