The next morning, I left the hospital.
Amelia was sleeping peacefully in her car seat.
I carried the leather folder with me.
My sister, Rachel, drove.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said.
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because tomorrow, Julian is going to stand in front of everyone and pretend he finally found happiness.”
I looked down at Amelia.
“And I’m going to let him.”
Rachel glanced at me.
“Until when?”
“Until the truth walks into that church.”
The wedding was being held at one of the most expensive hotels in the city.
Hundreds of guests were expected.
Business partners.
Friends.
Family.
People who had watched my marriage fall apart.
People who had heard Julian say I was incapable of giving him children.
People who had believed Fiona was the woman who finally gave him the family he wanted.
I entered through the main doors carrying Amelia.
The room became strangely quiet.
People recognized me.
Whispers began immediately.
“Is that her?”
“Julian’s ex-wife?”
“Who’s the baby?”
Then Fiona saw me.
She was standing near the staircase in a white wedding gown.
Her smile disappeared.
Completely.
She stared at Amelia.
Then at me.
Then at the leather folder in my hand.
Her face turned pale.
She walked toward me quickly.
“What are you doing here?”
I smiled.
“You invited me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Julian did.”
She looked around nervously.
“Where did you get that baby?”
I looked down at Amelia.
“Her name is Amelia.”
Fiona’s breathing changed.
Then she whispered:
“That’s impossible.”
I tilted my head.
“Why?”
She couldn’t answer.
Because she knew.
Before I could say anything else, Julian appeared.
He looked confused.
Then he saw me.
His smile vanished.
“What is she doing here?”
I looked directly at him.
“You invited me.”
His eyes dropped to the baby.
“What is that?”
I smiled.
“Your daughter.”
The room went silent.
Julian stared at me.
“No.”
I handed Amelia gently to Rachel.
Then I opened the leather folder.
“Yes.”
I pulled out the paternity report.
“You should read this.”
He didn’t move.
Fiona whispered:
“Julian…”
He turned toward her.
“You knew?”
She didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
The Truth About the Baby
Julian finally took the report.
His hands trembled as he read it.
Then he looked at me.
“You were pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried.”
His face changed.
“What do you mean?”
I pulled out another document.
“Remember the night I called you after our final mediation?”
He stared at the page.
It was a phone record.
Seven calls.
All made from my number.
All directed to his phone.
None answered.
Then I showed him the email.
The subject line read:
I think I’m pregnant. Please call me.
The email had never reached him.
Someone had intercepted it.
His eyes slowly moved toward Fiona.
She stepped backward.
“No.”
I opened another page.
“Your company email administrator accessed my account that night.”
Julian stared at her.
“Fiona?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t.”
“Then why did you delete her message?”
“I didn’t!”
I pulled out the server report.
Her login.
Her password.
The exact timestamp.
Everything.
Julian’s face became expressionless.
“How?”
I looked at Fiona.
“You were the administrator.”
She started crying.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“You were going to leave him!”
I laughed bitterly.
“You helped destroy my marriage because you wanted my husband.”
“No!”
“You knew I was pregnant.”
“I didn’t know!”
I pulled out another message.
Fiona had sent it to Julian.
“She is pregnant. We need to act now.”
Julian looked like someone had punched him.
He turned toward her.
“You knew?”
Fiona began crying.
“You said you didn’t love her.”
“I asked if she was pregnant.”
“You said it didn’t matter!”
“And you believed me?”
The argument became louder.
Guests were staring.
Phones were coming out.
The wedding had stopped being a wedding.
It had become a courtroom.
The Inheritance
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