“It wasn’t relevant,” he replied, as if it hadn’t mattered that his wife had been tricked into giving birth for the woman he once loved—and maybe still did.
Diane chimed in, saying it made perfect sense. Jessica was healthy. Experienced. Rachel didn’t want to ruin her body with pregnancy. “You’ve done this before, sweetheart,” she said. “You were the perfect choice.”
Jessica felt sick. This wasn’t about family. It was about control. About using her. And when James told her to “just let it go,” she knew what she had to do.
She asked for a moment alone with her husband. Once the room cleared, she looked him dead in the eye and said, “We’re done.” James tried to protest, but Jessica didn’t waver. “You used me. You lied. You’ve disrespected me for the last time.”
He laughed it off at first—until she mentioned divorce. Real divorce. With lawyers, asset division, full custody.
Panic flickered in his eyes. But Jessica had made up her mind.
She delivered the baby alone, without the people who had betrayed her. When the nurse placed the newborn in her arms, Jessica looked down at the tiny, perfect face and felt only sorrow. She handed the child back. “This baby isn’t mine,” she said.
Within days, she’d filed for divorce. She met with a lawyer, moved in with her parents, and took back control of her life. James begged for forgiveness. He sent flowers, voicemails, showed up at her doorstep. But she was done.
“You didn’t make a mistake,” she told him. “You made a choice. And now I’m making mine.”
When the final papers were signed, Jessica didn’t celebrate. She didn’t feel victorious. She felt free.
Rachel got her baby. James lost everything.
And Jessica? She got herself back. She walked out of the courtroom and into the cold air, no longer someone’s pawn, no longer someone’s plan B.
She was done surviving.
She was ready to live.
