Thirty minutes later, my hospital door suddenly swung open. Brandon stood there in his tuxedo, pale and visibly shaken.
Behind him was his bride—still wearing her wedding gown and veil. He looked at the baby.
Then at me. And whispered, “You planned this.” I gave him a small smile.
“No, Brandon. You did.” He thought discovering the truth about the baby was the worst thing that could happen on his wedding day.
