During my wedding ceremony, an unexpected event drew the attention of all present. The sudden entrance of my ex-wife, visibly pregnant, left everyone whispering in confusion about the implications of her presence.
In my university days, I enjoyed a fair amount of admiration as a charming and bright student. Yet, I never found myself enamored with anyone, primarily due to my financial struggles that required me to juggle part-time work alongside my studies, leaving little room for romance.
Among my admirers was Van, a classmate who lavished me with meals, clothing, and even tuition payments in an effort to win my affection. Though I felt little in return, I eventually conceded to be with her since her family’s financial support proved beneficial for my education.
After graduating, I accepted Van’s proposal of marriage, believing it would ease my path to employment in the city. However, as we shared our lives, I realized my lack of genuine affection for her, which even translated to discomfort during our intimate moments.
We remained married for three years without any children. Van consistently pushed for me to undergo a medical evaluation, but I confidently claimed my health was fine and resisted her suggestions. With a stable career behind me and no reliance on her family, I decided to end our unsatisfying marriage in search of authentic love.
My emotional detachment ultimately led to our separation. Van eventually agreed to divorce, granting me freedom. Following that, I started a relationship with a striking business partner I had long admired. After over a year together, the decision for marriage was made. I did not extend an invitation to my ex-wife, yet she showed up at the wedding unannounced, exuding an unexpected sense of boldness.
The most shocking part was her announcement—she came to extend her congratulations while visibly pregnant. Her appearance stunned everyone, stirring hushed conversations and a palpable tension in the air.
When Van approached us, she said,
“If given a second chance, I would have never sacrificed my youth for a man who didn’t truly love me, only using me for my resources. My greatest regret is marrying you.”
Just as she was about to depart, my bride asked, “Whose child are you carrying?”
Her question jolted me. Since my ex-wife and I had been divorced for more than a year, it was clear the baby wasn’t mine. However, it raised a troubling question: Why had she never conceived during our three-year marriage? Did it imply I was unable to father children?
Without delay, Van responded,
“For three years, your husband and I were unable to have kids. I urged him to get checked multiple times, but he always pointed fingers at me. Yet, after each examination, I had been found perfectly healthy. After we split, I fell for another man, and on our first night together, I became pregnant.”
Her revelation left my fiancée in complete disbelief, causing her to drop her bouquet in shock. I stood frozen, overwhelmed and unsure of how to proceed.
After Van left, I attempted to console my girlfriend, urging her to stay calm and complete our ceremony. But she wanted to call it off, insisting on going with me for a fertility test before continuing with the marriage. She expressed,
“My sibling and his spouse endured nine years without children. They exhausted their savings on fertility treatments before ending their marriage. I don’t wish to follow that path.
“A woman’s value decreases with every failed marriage; I cannot marry a man who may not be able to have children.”
In that moment, I could not blame either my ex-wife or my girlfriend. My decline was the consequence of my own selfish choices and miscalculations. I cultivated bitterness, and now I was facing the harvest of my actions. Regret enveloped me—if only I had treated my ex-wife with more kindness, perhaps I wouldn’t be in such a dire predicament today.