The picture attached to her message made my blood run cold—a pregnancy test, with two bold red-purple lines.
Her message followed.
[Hubby, let's make a bet, okay?]
[Do you think I'll give birth to a little Zach or a little May?]
[I bet on a little Zach.]
Two minutes later, she sent another message, feigning embarrassment.
[Oops, sorry everyone, I sent that to the wrong chat. I can’t delete it now, so let’s just pretend we didn’t see it, okay?]
A cold, bitter smile curled my lips. Any lingering sense of morality or restraint I had left shattered in that moment.
I replied calmly, my fingers steady despite the storm raging inside me:
[Give me a month. I’ll come with you.]
——
The group chat fell silent.
Then, one by one, the messages started pouring in.
[Congratulations!]
[When did you two get married? Why didn’t you tell us? We need to celebrate!]
Someone initiated a payment transfer, a tradition in our group—a small token of congratulations. Others quickly followed, sending their well wishes and money.
Chindy hesitated for a moment before replying with two shy emoji faces.
[Thank you all for your blessings. Please, let’s not make a big deal out of it. Just pretend you didn’t see anything.]