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After the divorce, I hid his child — until the day of delivery, when the doctor pulled down his mask and left me speechless…

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fixed.

“Are you asking if we can… try again?” I asked, my voice a mix of vulnerability and wariness. I couldn’t deny that part of me still wanted to believe in us, still wanted to believe in what we had been. But another part, the part that had been hurt too deeply, was too afraid to even entertain the thought.

Ethan didn’t rush his answer. He didn’t continue reading …

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