About an hour later, everyone gathered around the cake with their phones ready.
That’s when I picked up the microphone.
And the remote control for the projector behind us.
“Before we reveal the baby’s gender,” I said, “there’s something everyone deserves to know first.”
The room fell silent.
Stephanie laughed nervously.
“What’s going on?”
Behind her, the projector screen lit up.
A timeline appeared.
I took a slow breath.
“When I was twenty years old, I learned I carried a genetic condition that could seriously affect my future children,” I explained. “Because of that, I underwent a procedure that left me infertile.”
A wave of murmurs spread through the crowd.
Stephanie’s smile disappeared.
“Nick…” she whispered sharply.
But I kept going.
“And earlier this week, I went back to my doctor for a complete evaluation.”
I clicked the remote.
A medical report appeared on the screen.
My name.
Recent date.
Clear confirmation.
Still infertile.
Gasps erupted across the room.
Someone dropped a glass.
Stephanie stumbled backward.
“What are you doing?!” she shouted.
For illustrative purposes only
Then movement near the entrance caught everyone’s attention.
A man had just walked in.
The same man from the messages.
