Stephanie arrived last.
She wore a beautiful white dress and smiled like someone who believed she had already won.
She kissed my cheek.
“This is perfect,” she whispered.
I looked at her calmly.
“It will be.”
About an hour later, everyone gathered around the cake with their phones ready.
That’s when I picked up the microphone.
And the remote control for the projector behind us.
“Before we reveal the baby’s gender,” I said, “there’s something everyone deserves to know first.”
The room fell silent.
Stephanie laughed nervously.
“What’s going on?”
Behind her, the projector screen lit up.
A timeline appeared.
I took a slow breath.
“When I was twenty years old, I learned I carried a genetic condition that could seriously affect my future children,” I explained. “Because of that, I underwent a procedure that left me infertile.”
A wave of murmurs spread through the crowd.
Stephanie’s smile disappeared.
“Nick…” she whispered sharply.
But I kept going.
“And earlier this week, I went back to my doctor for a complete evaluation.”
I clicked the remote.
