It was our 10th wedding anniversary, and John had surprised me with tickets to the Dominican Republic. He gave me 20 minutes to pack my things, and we set off.
I hadn’t seen John much over the past few months due to his new project. We only saw each other briefly in the early morning and late at night, so this trip was a precious gift for us.
We drank out of coconuts, ate seafood, and danced bachata every night.
Yesterday, we were walking along the seashore, enjoying an incredible sunset. Just as I was about to tell him I was expecting, a woman appeared out of nowhere, kneeled in front of him, and he freaked out.
I was sure it was a joke until she said, “John…”
Her voice cracked, her hands trembling as she clutched the hem of his shorts. “Please, you can’t keep ignoring me. You promised.”
My entire body went cold. John’s face drained of color, and his hand tightened around mine like he was trying to hold me in place—like he knew I was about to run.
“Stand up, Maria,” he hissed, his jaw clenched. “This isn’t the place.”
The name burned in my ears. Maria. Who was she?
I pulled my hand free. “John, what is this? Who is she?”
Maria looked at me with wide, tearful eyes. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know he was married.” Her gaze shifted back to him. “Tell her, John. Tell her the truth.”
The sound of the waves suddenly felt deafening. My chest tightened, my breath shallow. I wanted to scream, but my voice wouldn’t come.
John buried his face in his hands for a second before looking at me. “It’s not what it looks like,” he said, his voice trembling. “I can explain.”
But in that moment, as the sunset cast a blood-red glow across the water, I realized something. The man I thought I knew—the man I was about to share my biggest secret with—was hiding one of his own.
And it wasn’t small.
Maria’s words echoed in my head: “You promised.”
I felt the sand shift beneath my feet, though I hadn’t moved. My hands curled into fists. “Explain,” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
John reached for me, but I stepped back. “Please, Emily… I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
“Find out what?” My voice cracked.
Maria stood now, brushing the sand from her knees, her chin trembling but her eyes fierce. “That you’re not the only one.”
It was like the world tilted. My stomach lurched, and for a second, I thought I’d collapse right there on the beach. “Not the only one?” I repeated, barely a whisper.
John ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “I—I made a mistake, years ago. Before the project, before things got complicated. Maria and I… it was never supposed to last.” He glanced at her with something between guilt and fear. “But then she got pregnant.”
My knees almost buckled. “Pregnant?”
Maria stepped forward, her voice breaking now. “He’s my son too, John. Our son. And he deserves more than lies and excuses.”
My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. A child. He had a child with this woman, a child he never told me about.
I wrapped my arms around my stomach instinctively, the weight of my own secret pressing against me. He didn’t know yet that I was carrying his second child.
The irony cut deep. Here I was, about to give him the gift of fatherhood all over again—while another child he’d hidden was already out there, existing, waiting for a father who kept him a secret.
“Emily, please,” John begged, reaching for me again. “It was complicated—I didn’t know how to tell you without losing you.”
“You already lost me,” I whispered, stepping back into the tide.
Maria’s tear-streaked face turned toward me. “You deserve the truth. I wish I had known too.”
The waves crashed harder against the shore, and in that moment, I realized our anniversary trip wasn’t a celebration of ten years together. It was the burial of everything I thought our marriage was built on.
