On the Day I Gave Birth, My Ex Demanded His Baby Back

The woman lying beneath him was Rachel Fox, Owen's junior colleague at the firm.

“Ahhh!!”

A scream. Owen yanked the covers over her without missing a beat.

I lost it. Smashed the newlywed condo to pieces—every last thing I could get my hands on.

Owen sat on the couch. Not a flicker of panic on his face.

He watched me tear the place apart, cold-eyed, and then one line ripped the mask clean off.

“Margaret, why can't you just play dumb?”

“Some things are better left alone. Did catching us really do you any good?”

The wrecked condo. The two of them on the couch, shameless as anything.

All at once, the whole thing just felt pointless.

“We're done.”

Owen didn't believe it.

Four months pregnant, the wedding days away—he was certain I wouldn't follow through.

So he sat there looking down at me, waiting for me to cave.

I didn't.

When I packed my things and left, I didn't look back once.

A string of beeps from the landline cut through the memory.

“Maggie, what's going on?”

“Your phone's disconnected!”

“And why is he blasting wedding invites in the class group chat again?”

The voice on the other end was Barbara Henson, my college roommate and the only close friend I still kept in touch with.

She knew everything between me and Owen.

“Owen messaged me acting like it was no big deal. Asked if I'd cooled off yet.”

“I couldn't stand it, so I had Francis change my number.”

Barbara let out a dry laugh on the other end. “The nerve on that man.”

“We can't just let him run wild in the group chat, though. How about this—come to the college reunion next month?”

“Sure.”

I agreed without a second thought.

I was curious what kind of face Owen would make when he saw me.

The day after my postpartum confinement ended, I showed up at the reunion as promised.

“Maggie!”

I waved and took the seat beside her.

A quick scan of the room—no sign of Owen.

Barbara set out my bowl and chopsticks. “He's not here yet. Turns out he bankrolled this whole thing. Probably planning some grand entrance to dazzle us all.”

That got a laugh out of me.

“Margaret, how come you didn't come with Owen?”

“Right? You two have been together what, seven, eight years? After all those ups and downs, you're finally tying the knot.”

“You're not going to bail on us old classmates again, are you?”

The chatter came from every direction, each remark tinged with the eagerness of an audience settling in for a show.

I knew what they were really talking about—last year's canceled wedding.

“This time, I guarantee you'll all be raising a glass at our wedding!”

Before I could say a word, Owen's voice cut through the room.

Gray suit, looking every inch the slick fraud he was, he walked straight toward me and dropped his hand onto my shoulder like it belonged there.

“Why'd you come in alone?”

That easy, familiar tone—as if nothing had ever happened between us.

I shrugged his hand off and shifted away.

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

My voice was low enough to drown under the noise of the crowd.

People swarmed over to toast Owen and make small talk. Everyone wanted to stay on good terms with him—just in case they needed a favor someday.

Barbara and I couldn't help but roll our eyes.

Once dinner started, Owen took the seat beside me. His very first sentence made my skin crawl.

“I knew you'd show up the second you saw that wedding invitation.”

“Margaret, I made senior partner this year.”

“You could look for the rest of your life and never land a husband half as good as me.”

“There's only so long you can throw a tantrum, Margaret. You've been gone a whole year—don't you think it's time to come back?”