She buried her child.
And not long after, she realized she had buried the truth too.
Late nights became common. Phone calls taken in the other room. The smell of unfamiliar perfume clinging to his clothes. When she asked, he said she was imagining things—that grief was making her suspicious, unstable.
She apologized for asking.
Then one evening, she found the messages by accident. No drama. No confrontation at first. Just words glowing quietly on a screen, confessing what he never had the courage to say out loud.
He had been unfaithful.
While she was pregnant.
While she was carrying life.
While she was praying for her baby to arrive safely.
