Finally, one evening, I asked him the question directly. He looked at me for a long time and then smiled, not angrily, but peacefully.
“I’m pregnant,” she said softly. My heart stopped. After everything she had done, she had protected herself and the life growing inside her. I felt both humbled and ashamed.
That night, lying next to her, I understood: love is not measured by impeccability, but by compassion.
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