My Wife Always Hides a Red Ring in My Pocket Before I Leave Home
Episode 8
My wife turned sharply to her friend.
“You deceived me about that red ring, told me to keep hiding it in my husband’s pocket. And now, you’re claiming you’re pregnant for him?”
Her voice cracked with fury. “I won’t let you fool me a third time. I’ve had enough of your games!”
Her friend shouted back, but I had heard enough.
I stood frozen for a moment, then said firmly, “Enough. We’re going to the hospital, right now.”
At the clinic, the test came out positive.
She was two months pregnant.
My wife shouted in disbelief, “Two months? But she came here barely three weeks ago! How is my husband responsible? So this was your plan all along!”
Her friend went silent, shame written all over her face.
But my shame was heavier. I had failed my wife.
That evening, her friend packed her things quietly and left.
I sat in the living room, head in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice trembling. “Please forgive me. I don’t know what came over me.”
My wife looked at me. “I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “For using those red rings. For lying. For bringing her into our home. I thought I was protecting us, but I was wrong.”
She stormed into the bedroom, opened her bag, and pulled everything out the red rings and the small blue container. With trembling hands, she threw them all away, then handed me my picture she had kept hidden.
Then she turned to me. “Let’s start again. No more secrets. No more fear.”
I held her hands. “I promise, I won’t leave you. We’ll keep living, keep loving. Even if we don’t have children, we’ll raise a generation through our kindness, through our impact and leave a legacy that will stand the test of time.”
Her tears fell freely. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you more,” I replied.
Months passed, then a year. One morning, she woke up saying, “Honey… I feel different.”
We rushed to the hospital.
The doctor smiled. “Congratulations. She’s one month pregnant.”
Eight months later, we welcomed not just one but triplets. Tears of joy rolled down our faces.
At last, I was called a father and she, a mother
The End.
Expect another story soon.
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