After fifteen years of marriage, I made a terrible mistake: I was unfaithful to my wife and decided to confess to her.
She did not shout or throw objects.
Then, suddenly, everything changed.
He started to be nice to me again: he cooked my favorite dishes, left me sweet little notes and greeted me with warm smiles, as if nothing had happened. I didn’t understand a thing.
For example only.
Weeks passed and his calmness worried me. Every week, she said she had an appointment with her gynecologist. I tried to trust him, but the guilt made me suspicious.
Why did he come to see me so often? I told myself that it wasn’t up to me to question him, not after what he had done. Despite everything, my discomfort grew day by day.
Finally, one evening, I asked him directly. He looked at me for a long time and then smiled, not angrily, but peacefully.
“I’m pregnant,” she says softly. My heart stopped. After all she had done, she had protected herself and the life that was growing inside her. I felt both humbled and ashamed.
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