Three months ago, my life collapsed. I was 27, newly engaged—and pregnant. But when I told Ethan, he walked out and never came back. I kept the pregnancy secret, even from my family. My father owned the company I worked at, and my boss—Adam—was my sister Rebecca’s husband.

The truth came out brutally during a team meeting. Adam mocked me in front of everyone, joking about my pregnancy. But then the office doors opened—my father, Rebecca, and a young woman named Lila walked in, holding a baby.

Rebecca revealed everything: she’d found my journal. Adam was the father of my baby… and Lila’s too.

Adam tried to explain, but it was over. My father fired him on the spot and promised to ensure he paid child support. Rebecca, heartbroken, pulled me into a hug. “We’ll get through this together,” she said.

A week later, my father offered me Adam’s role. I accepted. Now I walk into that office with my head high.

I don’t know where Ethan is—and I don’t care. I have a baby on the way, a family that stood by me, and a sister who chose forgiveness over hate.

And that’s all I need.