On our wedding night, my husband, Scott, wanted to get intimate with me, but I turned him down, saying I was tired. He understandingly agreed and kissed me goodnight. Suddenly, at midnight, I felt the bed shake and turned to my side, only to freeze at what Scott was doing on our bed.
On our wedding night, amidst the anticipation, I was hesitating. “Scott, can we… can we talk for a bit?” I asked, suggesting we don’t dive right into the “action.”
Scott frowned and questioned, “Talk? Now?”
Despite his frustration, I expressed my need for more conversation and rest, given the day’s exhaustion.
Scott reluctantly agreed, masking his disappointment with a gentle kiss on my cheek before we turned in for the night. However, the tranquility of our lavender-scented suite was shattered when I awoke a few hours later.
Our bed was shaking for some reason, and it took a while before my eyes focused enough to see Scott kneeling by the bed, holding a baby.
×
“Scott?” I gasped in confusion. “What’s going on?”
He looked at me before his eyes darted around as if thinking of an excuse, and finally whispered, “Everly, this is Ella,” he gulped, and my world spun as he continued. “She is my orphaned niece. My stepsister, Maya, is gone now. I found out about her just a few weeks ago.”
I arranged myself on the bed, dumbfounded. “A few weeks ago?” I repeated, frowning, as I struggled to understand how the baby had appeared in our room on our wedding night.
