“You thought wrong,” I said, hanging up.
The next day, I searched the beach, resort, and shops for hours, but Stacey had vanished. Frustration overwhelmed me. Was I losing my mind?
As the sun set, I heard a familiar voice.
“I knew you’d come.”
I turned to see Stacey, alone. She looked like the woman I once loved, but there was a coldness in her eyes.
“How?” was all I could say.
“It’s complicated, Abraham.”
“Then explain it,” I growled.
She hesitated. “I’m pregnant.”
I froze. “What?”
“It’s not yours,” she whispered.
The nightmare unfolded. Stacey admitted to having an affair, faking her death, and staging the accident with her parents’ help to escape her life.
“We thought it would be easier this way—for everyone,” she said.
“Easier?” I could barely contain my rage. “Do you know what you’ve done to me? To Luke?”
Tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t face you. I thought this was the only way.”
Before I could respond, Luke appeared with his nanny.
“Mommy?” His voice was small, confused.
I scooped him up, shielding him from Stacey. “Don’t speak to him,” I warned her.
Back in our room, Luke sobbed, begging to see his mother. I knelt beside him, wiping away his tears.
“Luke, I need you to be brave. Mommy lied to us. She did something wrong.”
“She doesn’t love us anymore?”
“I love you enough for both of us,” I whispered, holding him close.
The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of legal battles. Stacey didn’t contest anything. Full custody was mine, and a gag order was placed to protect Luke.
I moved us to a new city for a fresh start. Life was difficult, but we began to heal.
One day, I received a message from Stacey: “Please, let me explain. I miss Luke so much. I feel so lost. My boyfriend left me.”
I deleted it without responding. Some bridges are meant to stay burned.
As I watched Luke play in our new backyard, I hugged him tight. “I love you, buddy.”
He smiled up at me. “I love you too, Daddy.”
In that moment, I knew we were going to be okay.