The Ex’s Wedding Gift

I paused for a moment, but my eyes quickly widened. “A baby?”

The man was more surprised than I was. “Didn’t you know? You’re three months along.”

I had no idea.

It was a moment I couldn’t describe. It felt as if fate was playing a cruel joke on me.

I walked out in a daze and stopped short because I saw Dominick, holding Gia in his arms, heading in my direction.

Working with agility, I ducked around the bend of the hallway to avoid detection.

“Dom, what are we going to do about the baby?” Gia sounded hurt.

Without a word, Dominick helped Gia into a ward.

Gia stopped in her tracks, her voice choked with sobs, “Do you not want the baby? I can terminate the pregnancy.”

She whirled around to run off, but Dominick was quick to catch her and held her tight in his arms.

“I do.

“I want the baby.”

He murmured, “The timing just isn’t right. You can have the baby, and as compensation, I can promise you one thing. Anything you want.”

Gia’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Okay. I want you to marry me. I don’t care if it’s a small ceremony. I want to be yours.”

Dominick fell silent for a moment before giving a nod. “Alright. I can do that for you. I’ll give you the most lavish wedding in the world in a week. This is just between us, all right?”

The pair strolled into the ward hand-in-hand as I hid in the corner of the hall, my tears rolling down my cheeks and my hand clutched against my lips.

I stumbled back into my ward, only to find the guy who’d saved me still around.

It then occurred to me to thank him. As a show of gratitude, I handed Dominick’s black card to him.

The man refused the card. “I don’t need the money. Thank you.”

He excused himself and walked to the door. Out of the blue, he turned on his heel and slipped a business card in my hand before making an exit.

I looked down at the card, which simply read a name—Cesare Lombardi.

For some reason, the name sounded familiar. Nevertheless, I dismissed the thought, knowing I had better things to deal with.

The plan was to be discharged immediately, but I had to extend my stay at the hospital on the doctor’s orders.

While I was there, friends reached out to show concern and came to visit. Wrecked with anxiety, my parents were just one step away from taking the trip over.

My husband was the exception, though. All he did was leave a brief and frosty text message.

“I’m away on business. Contact Frankie for anything.”

Dominick wasn’t with family. Instead, he was on an island, planning his wedding with Gia.

I must admit that he was clever to set the island as the wedding venue.

Without his permission, nobody could set foot there, including me.

Somehow, as if by telepathy, we had set the countdown to the wedding for seven days later.

It was probably because seven was Dominick’s lucky number. There was a time when he would never be found without a pendant in the shape of the number seven. It was a keepsake from his late mother, with the word “Lucky” etched on the back.

Dominick passed the necklace to me on the day of our wedding. “More than myself, I hope this necklace keeps you safe.”

No words were ever more beautiful.

With that in mind, I teared up, my hand reaching for the jewelry piece around my neck.

I looked down and froze.

The engraved letters on the back were missing.

The necklace had been swapped.

Having suspicions of my own, I grabbed my phone and scrolled past the chat log until my gaze zeroed in on a personal photo.

There, Gia’s bare body was adorned with a bronze necklace, the back engraved with the word “Lucky”.

It all became clear to me. I ran my hand across my belly and whispered to the baby, “No wonder neither one of us is lucky anymore.”

I was hesitating whether to keep the baby, but now, my mind was made up.

Like Gia’s, my child came at the wrong time. Dominick would never favor my baby.

Having come to a decision, I knocked on the door of an office.

“Hello there, I’d like to schedule an abortion.”

I believed the wedding gift could not be more fitting.