Father Disowns Newborn Baby And Accuses Wife Of Cheating, Then Wife Does This
Dr. Wilson opened her mouth, maybe to argue about procedures or meetings or next steps, but Emily was already standing.
“Please keep me updated,” Emily said. “On the tests. On… everything. On our daughter.”
On our daughter. The words felt strange and right all at once.
Outside, the air was crisp, washed clean by a new round of rain. Emily strapped the baby into the car seat with practiced hands and then sat in the driver’s seat, staring at them in the rearview mirror.
The face looking back at her—her own—seemed different. Exhausted, yes. But steadier. Sharper around the edges.
For the first time in weeks, she knew what she had to do.
At home, she laid the baby gently in the crib. The house was quiet, almost peaceful in a way it hadn’t been since James walked out.
Emily stood there for a long time, watching the slow rise and fall of the baby’s chest, listening to the soft whistling breaths.
Then she picked up her phone.
Her thumb hovered over his name for a moment. Then she tapped.
He answered on the second ring. “Emily,” he said, wary and tired.
“They mixed up the babies,” she said. No preamble. No cushion. “At the hospital. The night I delivered. We took home the wrong child.”
Silence. Then the faint sound of his breath catching.
“What?” he whispered.
“Our biological daughter is safe,” Emily said, voice trembling but clear. “The other family’s here too. We’ve met. The hospital is confirming everything.”
He didn’t speak for several seconds. Then, in a quiet, strangled tone, “Can I come over?”
She closed her eyes, pressing her fingers against her brow. “Do whatever you think is right,” she said.
The knock came sooner than she expected—soft, hesitant, like he didn’t quite believe he had the right to be there.
She wiped her damp hands on a dish towel and walked to the door. The knocking came again, a little louder.
When she opened it, James stood on the porch, rain clinging to his hair, his clothes darkened with water. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“Emily,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
“I didn’t know what to say,” he continued, voice shaking. “I still don’t.”
“You always know what to say when you’re angry,” she replied. “It’s when you’re wrong that you suddenly run out of words.”
