He Rejected Me While I Was Carrying His Child

Lyra's POV

At six in the morning, I carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake Damon.

Today was my birthday. More importantly, I was finally pregnant.

The test results from yesterday were still hidden in my drawer, clearly stating "4 weeks pregnant." I'd read it at least ten times, fighting back tears each time. Two years of monthly disappointments, two years of feeling like I wasn't good enough.

But now, finally... I touched my belly. Nothing showed yet, but I knew there was a tiny life growing inside.

The morning sickness hadn't started yet, but I could feel something different. A subtle change in my body, a new awareness that made everything feel more precious.

I went to the kitchen and started making breakfast. Scrambled eggs, toast, his favorite black coffee. As I cooked, I kept thinking about how to tell him. Should I just show him the test results, or mention it was my birthday first?

Two pieces of good news together—he'd be so happy.

I imagined his face lighting up, maybe even seeing tears in his eyes. He'd always talked about wanting children, about carrying on the family line. This baby would change everything between us.

When Damon emerged from the bedroom, I was just setting breakfast on the table. He looked handsome as always in his dark blue uniform.

"Damon, today is my—"

His phone rang.

"What's wrong? Right now?" He answered, frowning deeply. "Alright, I'll be right there."

"Pack emergency at the border. I have to go." He took a sip of coffee and headed for the door.

"Wait, I need to tell you—"

The door slammed shut.

I stood in the kitchen, still holding the lunch box I'd prepared for him. The breakfast steamed on the table, but no one was there to eat it.

"...birthday." I finished my sentence to the empty room.

The silence felt heavier than usual. Even the coffee seemed to mock me, growing cold in his abandoned cup.

Tears fell, but I quickly wiped them away. Today was special. It had to be different.

I went back to the bedroom and pulled out the test results from the drawer. Black ink on white paper, simple words that meant everything to me.

"He'll be so happy when he finds out," I told myself. "We've wanted a baby for so long, and now we finally have one."

I traced the words with my finger. "Positive." Such a small word for such a huge change.

I decided to prepare a special dinner tonight and tell him the news. Birthday plus pregnancy—a double surprise.

That afternoon, I went to town and spent every penny I'd saved over the past few months. I bought the finest venison and his favorite honey. My wallet was empty, but it felt worth it.

The butcher smiled when I picked the most expensive cut. "Special occasion?" he asked. I just nodded, too excited to explain.

Back home, I threw myself into preparations. Honey bread, marinated venison, cleaning the house. With each task, I told myself: tonight has to be perfect.

I even picked wildflowers from the garden, arranging them in our best vase. The house had to look like a celebration.

I found a pink ribbon and wrapped the test results. This was my surprise.

"Birthday, pregnancy, our first child." I looked at the small package, certain today would be our best day yet.

At six o'clock, I changed into that light blue dress—the one he'd once said looked beautiful on me. I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, wanting to look perfect.

My reflection looked hopeful, glowing even. Maybe it was the pregnancy, or maybe it was just happiness.

Dinner was ready, candles were lit, and the test results waited in the drawer, ready to be revealed.

I waited for him to come home.

Seven o'clock, eight o'clock, nine o'clock...

The food grew cold, so I reheated it. The candles burned halfway down, so I replaced them. But Damon still hadn't returned.

My stomach growled, but I didn't want to eat without him. This meal was meant to be shared.

I told myself he was just busy with work. Border patrol was important—he was protecting our home.

At nine-thirty, my phone buzzed.

"Border patrol. Back late."

Just that. No "happy birthday," no "sorry," nothing.

I stared at the screen, waiting for another message. Maybe he'd remember. Maybe he'd add something. But the phone stayed silent.

I stared at the message, my heart aching. But I made excuses for him again: he must be exhausted, border work was dangerous, he was doing this for our future.

For our child.

That thought gave me an idea. I could go to the border, bring him food, and tell him the good news there. Under the moonlight—how romantic.

Maybe this was better. More private, more intimate than our dining room.

I repacked all the food in thermal containers and carefully placed the test results in my bag. Before leaving, I checked the mirror one more time, making sure I looked beautiful enough.

"Tonight I'm going to tell him we're having a baby," I took a deep breath. "He'll be so happy."

The moon was bright, illuminating the forest path. I carried the thermal containers, my heart racing with nervous excitement.

The containers were heavier than I expected, but I didn't mind. Each step brought me closer to sharing our miracle.

I practiced what I'd say. "Damon, today is my birthday, but I have an even bigger surprise..." "We're going to have a baby..." "This is our child..."

I rehearsed every word.

I even practiced different tones—excited, gentle, playful. Which would make him happiest?

Tonight would be different. We'd embrace, cry, laugh, and start planning our future.

We'd talk about names, about the nursery, about what kind of parents we wanted to be.

I walked deeper into the forest, carrying all my hopes with me.