Van’s sudden outburst drew the attention of the entire room. Whispers spread quickly, and no one understood what was about to happen.
At university, I was the handsome and intelligent guy admired by many students. But I never fell in love with anyone. My family was poor; I had to work part-time every day just to pay my tuition and had no time for love.
Among the girls who adored me was my classmate, Van. To win my heart, she often bought me food, clothes, and even paid my tuition fees.
I didn’t feel anything real for her, but since her family supported my studies, I reluctantly agreed to be with her.
After we graduated, since I wanted to stay in the city, I agreed to marry Van so her parents could help me find a job. But living together, I realized that I didn’t actually love her at all and even felt repulsed by physical intimacy with her.
We were married for three years and had no children. She kept urging me to get a checkup, but I insisted I was perfectly healthy and refused to go. By then, my career was stable, and I wasn’t dependent on her family. That’s when I decided to end that bland marriage to pursue “true love.”
My coldness and indifference eventually drove her away. She finally agreed to sign the divorce papers and left me free. After that, I started a relationship with a beautiful business partner whom I had secretly admired for a long time. After more than a year together, we decided to get married. I didn’t send an invitation to my ex-wife, but somehow, she showed up at the wedding anyway, without a hint of shame.
The most unexpected thing was that she arrived with a pregnant belly to congratulate us. Her appearance was a bit of a shock and drew everyone’s attention. Whispers filled the room; no one knew what was going to happen.
When Van approached us, she said,
“If I could go back in time, I would never have wasted my youth on a man who didn’t love me and only used my money. My biggest regret was marrying you.”
As she was about to leave, the bride asked, sounding regretful,
“Whose child are you carrying?”
That question startled me. My ex-wife and I had been divorced for over a year, so the baby clearly wasn’t mine. But then… why had she never gotten pregnant during our three years of marriage? Could it mean I was infertile?
Without making us wait, Van turned and said,
“For three years, your husband and I couldn’t have children. I asked him to get tested many times, but he always blamed me. However, every time I had tests done, I was perfectly fine. After the divorce, I fell in love with another man. And the first night we were together, I got pregnant.”
His words left my bride so stunned that she dropped her bouquet. I, on the other hand, was completely shocked, not knowing what to do.
After Van left, I tried to comfort my girlfriend, asking her to calm down and finish the ceremony first. But she refused, saying she wanted to cancel the wedding and go with me to a fertility test before deciding on marriage. He said:
“My brother and his wife were married for nine years without children. They spent a fortune on fertility treatments and still ended up divorcing. I don’t want to repeat their mistake.
A woman’s worth diminishes with each failed marriage; I don’t want my first wedding to be with a man who can’t have children.”
I had no right to blame either my ex-wife or my girlfriend.
My downfall was the result of my own calculations and selfishness. I sowed bitterness, and now I’m reaping it. If only I had treated my ex-wife well, I wouldn’t be facing such a miserable end today.
