My Husband Threw Me Out Because I “Couldn’t Give Him a Family” — Eighteen Months Later, I Walked Into His Wedding Holding the Hands of Three Children
“And you said nothing.”
His eyes filled.
“I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask.”
That landed harder.
Grant looked at the children again.
“Are they…”
His voice broke.
“Are they mine?”
“Biologically, yes.”
A wave of whispers went through the guests.
Grant pressed a hand against his mouth.
Three children.
The family he had supposedly wanted more than anything.
Standing feet away from him.
Calling another man when they were frightened.
Running to another man when they fell.
Grant looked at Lucas.
“And who are you?”
Lucas shifted Sophie higher in his arms.
“Lucas Mercer.”
Something about his voice made Grant understand immediately that Lucas wasn’t simply my doctor anymore.
Grant looked at Sophie.
She had rested her head against Lucas’s shoulder.
Then Miles reached up toward him too.
Lucas automatically took his hand.
Grant saw it.
His expression cracked.
“I’m their father.”
Lucas remained calm.
“You’re their biological father.”
Grant’s head snapped toward him.
Lucas continued.
“But fatherhood is measured in more than DNA.”
Grant looked as though he wanted to argue.
He couldn’t.
Not while standing in front of three children whose existence he had missed because he had been too busy replacing their mother.
Elaine suddenly reached toward Sophie.
“My granddaughter…”
I stepped between them.
“No.”
Elaine stared at me.
“Claire.”
“No.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You knew exactly how you treated me.”
Her expression hardened slightly.
“I made mistakes.”
“Mistakes are forgetting a birthday. You spent years telling me my value depended on giving your son children.”
Guests were openly listening now.
Elaine glanced around, humiliated.
That would once have made me happy.
Instead, it simply made me tired.
Then Savannah walked toward us.
Her face was tight.
“Grant.”
He barely looked at her.
She tried again.
“The ceremony is supposed to start.”
That was when another voice came from behind the rows of chairs.
“It shouldn’t.”
Everyone turned.
A man in his mid-thirties stood near the back of the aisle.
Dark suit.
No tie.
Angry expression.
Savannah went completely white.
Her bouquet slipped slightly in her hand.
“What are you doing here?”
The stranger walked forward.
“You weren’t answering my calls.”
Grant stared between them.
“Who is this?”
Savannah said nothing.
The stranger stopped several feet away.
“My name is Cole Harris.”
Grant looked confused.
“Okay?”
Cole’s eyes moved toward Savannah’s stomach.
Then back to Grant.
“You need to know the truth before you marry her.”
Savannah began shaking her head.
“Cole, please.”
Grant’s expression hardened.
“What truth?”
