Just sadness for thefather he could have been from the start.
After the appointment, he asked if he could have a copy of the ultrasound.
I hesitated.
Then gave him one.
He held it like it was made of glass.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I know.”
He looked hopeful.
That was dangerous.
I added, “Sorry is a beginning. Not a bridge.”
His shoulders sank.
But he nodded.
Paula testified in the divorce proceedings.
I did not expect that.
She provided messages from Diego proving he had been involved with her before the pregnancytest.
Proof that he had considered leaving me before the vasectomy.
Proof that his outrage had been convenient.
Not invented, maybe.
But convenient.
He had used the pregnancy as a moral exit ramp.
Paula’s statement hurt.
Not because I wanted Diego back.
Because betrayal is rarely a single knife.
It is a drawer full of them.
The divorce became final when I was twenty-four weeks pregnant.
I wore a blue dress.
Valeria sat beside me.
Diego sat across the courtroom looking hollow.
The judge approved support, medical cost coverage, futurecustody evaluation, and protective communication boundaries.
