Not My Baby
One week before our wedding, my fiancee told me she wanted to have a baby with her childhood best friend.
When I said no, she looked at me as if I were the unreasonable one.
"It's just IVF," my fiancee said. "Nothing is going to happen between Logan and me. His parents have been pressuring him to get married so badly that he almost died in a car accident. Now they have finally agreed to back off as long as he has a child. We should help him."
I stared at her, my face drained of color. "We're getting married in a week, and you want to have another man's baby? Do you honestly think that's fair to me?"
Her expression softened, and she reached for my hand as if she were soothing a child.
"Daniel," she said gently, "after we're married, we'll have children of our own too."
In that moment, whatever love I had left for her died completely.
She was right about one thing: I would have children of my own someday, but not with her.
I turned around, opened my phone, and posted a status for everyone to see, 'I'm getting married in one week, but I'm missing a bride. Anyone interested?'