I slowly untied the ribbon, lifted the lid, and froze. Scrawled across the top of the cake in black frosting were four words that turned my blood cold: I am divorcing you I stared at the words, blinking in disbelief. But there was more! Placed neatly on the cake, next to the damning message, was a positive pregnancy test.My heart dropped into my stomach. Jake had found it. He’d found the pregnancy test that I’d thrown into the bathroom trash this morning, the same test that I was supposed to pick up and bring with me, easy to hide from Jake. But I was late, and I had forgotten. Now, this? The cake… this was Jake’s response? Divorce. A cake with a slap-in-the-face message.I gripped the edge of my desk to steady myself, I could feel a panic attack almost rising to the surface. This wasn’t just some cruel joke. Jake thought I had cheated on him. Why else would he send this?I closed the box, my mind racing. Jake had been told years ago that he was infertile. And he believed that there was no way this child could be his. He thought I’d betrayed him, that I’d gone behind his back after everything we’ve been through.The truth, though? The truth was far more complicated. I hadn’t cheated. Of course not. I hadn’t been with anyone but Jake. The pregnancy test was mine, yes, but I hadn’t told him yet because I needed confirmation from the doctor first. Honestly, Jake and I had been through so much heartbreak trying to have a baby that I couldn’t stand the idea of getting his hopes up, only to have them crushed.I remembered our conversation from three years ago: “I think we should just stop trying for a while,” I said, sitting on our bed. “What do you mean, Em?” Jake asked. “Just like that, stop trying?” “We’ve been trying for a baby for the past eighteen months, Jake. I think our bodies need a moment to breathe.” “You mean my body?” he asked. “It seems like mine is the problem. The doctors have told us that it’s my fault. It’s my sperm. So, yeah. Let’s stop…
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