After Losing My Baby, I Went to My Sister’s Gender Reveal and Discovered My Husband Was the Father—Karma Found Them the Next Day

Something flickered across his face. “I can’t. I’ve got that meeting in Riverside. Remember?”

“On a Saturday?”

“Henderson wants to meet at his lake house. It’s a whole weekend thing.”

I wanted to argue, to beg him to be there, but the words stuck.

“Okay,” I whispered.

The party was extravagant—white and gold balloons, streamers, a dessert table worth more than my monthly salary. A giant box sat in the yard, ready to release pink or blue balloons.

Delaney glowed in a flowing white dress, radiant and everything I was supposed to look like.

“Oakley!” she squealed, rushing to hug me. “You came! I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Of course I came.”

She hugged me, her stomach pressing against mine, cracking something inside me.

“Where’s Mason?” she asked.

“Work thing.”

“On a Saturday? Poor guy works so hard.” Her smile was sympathetic, but her eyes looked almost amused.

I tried to endure the games, the tiny onesies, the squeals of joy. Each laugh felt like a knife.

“You okay?” my cousin Rachel asked.

“I’m fine. Just need some air.”

I slipped to the garden bench, closed my eyes, and tried to breathe.

That’s when I heard them.

“You’re sure she doesn’t suspect anything?” Mason’s voice.

Delaney laughed. “Please. She’s so wrapped up in her misery, she barely notices when you’re in the same room.”

I opened my eyes. Through the rose bushes, I saw them—standing too close. Then Mason kissed her.

Not a friendly peck. Not an accident. A deep, intimate kiss.

My legs moved before my brain caught up. I stumbled through the bushes.

“What the hell is going on?!”

They sprang apart. Mason went pale. Delaney smiled.

“Oakley,” Mason stammered. “This isn’t—”

“Isn’t what? That you weren’t kissing my sister? Because that’s exactly what it looked like!”

The crowd quieted, watching.

Delaney stepped forward, calm now. “You know what, Oakley? We were going to tell you eventually. But since you caught us, might as well. Mason is the father of my baby.”

The world stopped.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” She looked at Mason. “Tell her.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s true.”

“How long?” I whispered.

“Does it matter?” Delaney asked.

“How. Long.”

Mason finally looked at me. “Six months.”