I had the paper in my hand as I sat in my beat-up sedan in the Country Club parking lot. Ashley was on my lap, dressed in the most beautiful white dress I could afford, her dark hair in tiny pigtails. She looked like an angel. A little avenging angel.
Mia texted me: They’re opening gifts. It’s showtime.
I took a deep breath. “Ready, baby girl?” I whispered to Ashley. “Time to meet your daddy.”
I walked into that Country Club like I owned the deed to the land it stood on. The double doors swung open, and the hum of conversation died instantly.
The room was opulent. Ice sculptures. A string quartet playing softly in the corner. Natalie sat on a throne-like chair, surrounded by gifts, looking radiant in pink silk, her hand resting on her bump. Mitchell stood beside her, a glass of champagne in hand, looking like the lord of the manor. Catherine was holding court near the dessert table.
When they saw me, the silence was absolute. It was heavy, thick, and suffocating.
Mitchell turned the color of old paper. Natalie’s mouth fell open.
“What is she doing here?” Catherine hissed, her voice cutting through the quiet. “Security! Someone call security!”
“I don’t think they’ll want to remove me,” I said, my voice calm and projecting to the back of the room. “Not when I have such wonderful news to share.”
I walked straight to Mitchell. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, eyes wide, phones already coming out to record.
“Mitchell,” I said sweetly, shifting Ashley on my hip. “I wanted you to be the first to know. The results came back.”
He couldn’t speak. He just stared at me, then at Ashley, then back at me. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for an exit that didn’t exist.
“99.97%,” I announced. “Congratulations, Mitchell. It’s a girl.”
