06/14/2025
I was fixing my veil when the doorbell rang. 7 a.m.? Maybe my MOH, Tessa.
But when I opened the door, my stomach dropped.
A BABY. A tiny, pink-bundled baby in a car seat.
My hands shook as I spotted a note pinned to the blanket.
“The baby is Nate’s now. Ask him yourself.”
Nate. My fiancé.
The world tilted. This had to be a mistake. A sick joke.
I reached for my phone, heart pounding. But then I stopped. No. I needed to see his reaction in person.
So, I did the only thing that made sense—I took the baby to the chapel.
The guests were seated. The music swelled. Nate stood at the altar, beaming.
Then his eyes met mine—and THE BABY IN MY ARMS.
His smile vanished. His face turned ghostly pale.
Step by step, I walked down the aisle, stopping right in front of him. The room was dead silent.
His throat bobbed. His hands clenched.
Then, barely above a whisper, he muttered, “Claire… it’s not what you think.”
I clutched the baby closer to my chest, heart hammering against my ribs. Up until an hour ago, I was worried about my makeup, the flowers, the last-minute swirl of pre-wedding chaos. Now, I was standing at the front of the church with a child in my arms, staring into my fiancé’s terrified eyes.
I took a shaky breath. “Nate, can you explain?”
He bit his lip. The crowd behind us fidgeted. Tessa, my maid of honor, came rushing from a side pew, confusion etched across her face.
At first, Nate just stood there. His eyes flickered between me and the baby, as if trying to figure out if this was some prank. Then he cleared his throat. “Let’s… let’s talk outside.”
Without waiting for a response, he took my hand and guided me—and the baby—into a small alcove near the back of the church. The chatter of our guests was muffled behind the heavy wooden doors. I was still in my wedding gown, and Nate was dressed to say his vows, but neither of us was anywhere near ready to exchange rings anymore.
He lowered his voice. “Claire, I swear I never cheated on you. This baby… if it’s who I think it is…” His voice faltered. “This might be Addison’s child.”
My forehead creased. “Addison who?”
“Addison from college,” he said, scanning my eyes for any hint of recognition. “We dated for a while, before we ever even met. She disappeared one day—dropped out of school, blocked my number. I never knew why. I tried to reach out but never heard a thing. I… I have no idea why she’d leave her baby here, claiming it’s mine.”
The baby stirred, letting out a tiny whimper. Tessa stood beside us, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. She whispered, “What are you going to do? Everyone’s waiting.”
My mind was whirling. I glanced down at the child, whose cheeks were flushed pink, eyes closing sleepily. If this baby really was Nate’s, what did that mean for us—on our wedding day? Suddenly, all my carefully laid plans and dreams felt like they were being tossed into a hurricane.
Nate massaged his temples. “I don’t know how to handle this. But I do know I love you, Claire. I love you more than anything. And I have no idea why Addison would do something so… extreme. I need time to figure this out. But please…” He paused, voice trembling. “Please believe me that I didn’t hide anything from you.”
I took a moment to process his words. Nate had never given me a reason not to trust him. Still, confusion and anger churned inside my chest. How could something like this happen on the most important day of our lives?
“Alright,” I said, exhaling slowly. “First things first: we can’t just… abandon this baby. Let’s call the authorities, or at least child services. We have to do the right thing, no matter what.”
Tessa nodded, pulling out her phone. “I’ll make some calls.”
Before I knew it, the church secretary was ushering everyone out of the chapel, apologizing and explaining that we’d have a ‘brief delay.’ Most of the guests filtered into the courtyard, murmuring in confusion. My parents shot me worried glances, but I motioned for them to wait. Tessa disappeared into the office down the hall, speaking in hushed tones to the local police.
Suddenly, in that quiet corridor, Nate gently placed his hand on my forearm. “Claire,” he said softly, “I’ll take a paternity test. Whatever it takes. I need to know for certain. And if… if it turns out I’m the father, I’ll take responsibility. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
I swallowed the knot in my throat. “I know. It’s just… a lot to handle.” The baby, feeling my tension, whimpered again, prompting me to bounce her softly in my arms the way I’d seen Tessa do with her niece. There was something so heartbreakingly innocent about this little one, caught in the middle of a situation none of us truly understood.
An officer arrived soon after, along with a social worker...Detail in the Comments or Most relevant => All comments 👇
