Harry, taken aback, asked, “Who’s the father?” He looked genuinely confused, as Candice wasn’t dating anyone.
She waved off his question and instead looked at me and Harry expectantly. “I’ve been thinking, and the perfect birthday gift would be… a baby!”
Silence filled the room. Harry and I exchanged stunned glances.
“You… want us to have a baby for you?” Harry asked, still trying to process what he’d just heard.
Candice nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yes, you already have two kids. What’s one more?”
I was speechless. When I told her this wasn’t an option, she brushed it off, calling me selfish. Harry immediately backed me up, but Candice was insistent, claiming she had already made plans.
A few days later, Candice arrived at our house with Charlotte, both carrying shopping bags full of baby clothes. Candice excitedly announced that she was preparing for the arrival of the baby she expected us to give her. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Charlotte chimed in, saying it would be “easier for everyone” if I simply agreed.
But things took an even stranger turn when I found Charlotte in our room, rummaging through our belongings. I was stunned.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my patience wearing thin.
Charlotte gave me a casual smile. “I’m just making things simpler for Candice.”
That was the moment I realized I needed to take control of the situation. I came up with a plan—not to argue, but to show Candice just how absurd her request was.
Over the next several months, I pretended to go along with it. I acted as if I was preparing for a new arrival, even playing into Candice’s excitement. On the day of her birthday, I presented her with a beautifully wrapped baby carrier. Candice was nearly bursting with joy as she reached for it.
But the moment she looked inside, her excitement turned to confusion.
“What… what is this?” she stammered, pulling out a lifelike baby doll.
Harry and I couldn’t help but laugh. “The only baby you’re fit to take care of,” I told her with a smirk.
Her face turned red with frustration. “But you were pregnant! I saw—”
I shrugged. “Fake bellies work wonders.”
Charlotte was shocked, but before she could respond, Grace entered the room. “Can someone explain what’s going on here?” she asked.
I calmly explained the situation—Candice had expected us to give her a child as if it were a gift. Grace’s expression hardened.
“This is completely unacceptable,” she said firmly. Then, in a move no one saw coming, she added, “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. I will not be supporting this behavior any longer.”
Candice and Charlotte were speechless, realizing Grace’s disappointment had real consequences.
Grace then turned to me and Harry with a warm smile. “Let’s go see my great-grandchildren—the real ones.”
As we left, I felt a sense of relief. Not because of what had happened to Candice and Charlotte, but because we had stood our ground and reinforced what truly mattered—family, love, and respect.
For the first time in years, I knew I had taken back control of my life, and it felt better than ever.