Ava’s unexpected statement instantly drew the attention of the entire ballroom. Conversations died, whispers spread, and no one knew what was about to happen.
Back in college, I was the charming, smart guy everyone admired. Plenty of girls liked me, but I never truly fell for anyone. My family struggled financially, so I worked part-time every day just to survive. Romance was the last thing on my mind.
Among the girls who adored me was my classmate, Ava Miller. To win me over, she often bought me meals, gave me clothes, even helped pay part of my tuition.
I didn’t genuinely care for her, but because her family supported my studies, I reluctantly agreed to be with her.
After graduation, I wanted to stay in the city, so I married Ava mainly because her parents promised to help me find a stable job. But living together made me realize the truth—I didn’t love her, not even a little. I felt uncomfortable whenever she tried to be intimate with me.
We were married for three years and never had children. Ava kept asking me to get checked, but I refused. I insisted I was perfectly healthy. By then, my career was stable, and I no longer needed her family. That’s when I decided to end the dull marriage and chase “real love.”
My indifference eventually broke her. She signed the divorce papers and walked away quietly.
After that, I started dating Sophie Bennett, a stunning business partner I’d admired for years. After more than a year together, we decided to get married. I didn’t send Ava an invitation, but somehow, she walked into my wedding anyway—with a baby bump and absolutely no embarrassment.
Her arrival stunned the crowd. People whispered nonstop.
Ava stepped forward and said calmly:
“If I could go back, I’d never waste my youth on a man who didn’t love me and only used me. Marrying you was my biggest mistake.”
As she turned to leave, Sophie’s voice trembled:
“Whose child are you carrying?”
The question startled me. Ava and I had been divorced for over a year—clearly the baby wasn’t mine. But then why hadn’t she gotten pregnant in the three years we were married?
A horrible thought struck me: Was I infertile?
Ava turned back and said:
“For three years, your husband and I tried to have a baby. I begged him to get tested, but he always blamed me. Every checkup I did showed I was fine. After the divorce, I met someone new—and the very first night we were together, I got pregnant.”
Sophie was so shocked she dropped her bouquet. I stood frozen.
After Ava left, I tried to comfort Sophie, begging her to continue the ceremony, but she refused. She said:
“My brother and his wife spent nine years trying to have a child. They spent everything and still divorced. I won’t make the same mistake. Before I marry you, we need to know the truth.”
