Then, I realized—Emily wasn’t there.
I hadn’t seen my sister in over three years. Our calls had become shorter and less frequent due to time zones and busy schedules. But still—she should’ve been here.
My stomach twisted. “Where’s Em?”
Silence. A long, heavy silence.
My great-aunt, bless her heart, smiled obliviously, unaware of the thick tension filling the room.
“Oh, sweetheart! You’ll finally meet your nephew today!”
I froze. “My… what?”
The words barely left my lips before the atmosphere shifted. My mom went ghostly pale. My dad looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. Every relative in the room found something incredibly interesting about their drinks, the tablecloth, or the walls—anything but me.
No one said a word.
My heart pounded. “Did she just say nephew?” I looked around, searching for some explanation. “Emily doesn’t have a—”
Knock. Knock.
The door.
I turned just in time to see Emily stepping inside.
She froze the second our eyes met.
For a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. She looked terrified—as if this moment was something she had been dreading.
My parents weren’t looking at her. They were looking at me, bracing for what was coming.
Before I could react, Emily shifted aside—
And that’s when I saw him.
A little boy, no older than three, holding onto her hand.
My stomach churned. He had curly dark hair, wide brown eyes—eyes that looked exactly like my ex-fiancé’s.
Blood rushed in my ears.
I swallowed hard. “Emily…” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Who is that?”
I could barely breathe.
The boy—her boy—clung to Emily’s hand, his innocent eyes staring up at me. A tiny version of the man who had broken my heart.
