PART2 : Michael tore through the hospital doors soaked from the storm, his shirt clinging to his back, his face drained of every lie he had ever told.
At the nurses’ station, he could barely speak. “Emily Whitman. My wife. She’s pregnant with twins.”
The nurse looked up, and something in her expression made his knees weaken.
“Room 314,” she said. “But sir… prepare yourself.”
He ran.
Outside my room, Nicole stood with her arms crossed, eyes red from crying. When she saw him, her grief hardened into rage.
“You don’t get to rush in like a husband now,” she whispered.
“Nicole, please. Are they alive?”
She stepped closer, her voice trembling. “You mean the babies you remembered after your mistress watched you open divorce papers?”
Michael flinched as if she had slapped him.
Behind the door, a monitor beeped steadily. He tried to see past Nicole, but she blocked him.
“I need to see her,” he said.
“She nearly lost them on the side of the road,” Nicole snapped. “Alone. In the rain. While you were with Jessica.”
His mouth opened, but no excuse came.
Then my doctor stepped into the hallway.
“Mr. Whitman?”
Michael turned so fast he almost stumbled. “How is she?”
“Emily is stable for now,” the doctor said carefully. “But the twins are in distress. We’re doing everything we can.”
“For now?” Michael repeated.
The doctor hesitated. “There’s another complication.”
Nicole looked away.
Michael’s breathing changed. “What complication?”
Before the doctor could answer, his phone rang.
Jessica.
He rejected the call.
It rang again.
Then a message appeared.
You need to answer. This is about your future.
Michael stared at the screen, disgust twisting his face. He was about to throw the phone when another text arrived.
I’m pregnant.
The hallway seemed to tilt.
Nicole saw his expression and laughed bitterly. “Of course.”
But then a nurse rushed from my room.
“Doctor, she’s awake—and she’s asking for him.”
Michael pushed past the shame, the fear, the ruin, and stepped inside.
I lay pale against the pillows, one hand on my stomach, eyes fixed on him.
“You came,” I whispered.
He broke. “Emily, I’m so sorry.”
My lips trembled.
“Michael… Jessica lied.”
His blood turned cold.
Before he could ask what I meant, the doctor returned holding a sealed envelope from my attorney.
Inside was a paternity report.
Michael looked at the first line—and stopped breathing……….Say YES to unlock the rest of the story, [FULL STORY IN REPLY COMMENT BELOW] 👇