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I've been living with a heavy burden and finding it challenging to move forward. I anticipate scrutiny from your audience, as I expect them to. Despite this, women are often placed on a pedestal and expected to embody flawless virtue. Nevertheless, I will share my story.
My story began about four years ago at an Atlanta club, where I met an attractive man who bought me drinks and with whom I clicked. Before we even spoke, there was a backstory that involved his friend convincing him to invite me over to their table at the club, as he was too shy to approach me alone. After exchanging numbers, we spent a few days getting to know each other before he asked me out. The date was a dream come true; he had arranged for a personal chef, a dinner on his loft's terrace, and even presented me with a bouquet of roses. His gestures left me feeling completely enamored. I was taken aback, he had gone so far as to find out things about me, especially my favorite dishes, as the chef presented them on our table.
At that moment, he told me he was single and visiting Atlanta, Georgia mainly on business. The night went on hitch free and we meet several times after that. Our friendship evolved into dating. Reflecting on it now, I realize that I should have approached the situation like a detective and channeled my inner Sherlock Holmes. However, at the time, I wanted to take charge. It may seem gullible of me, but dating in Atlanta can be risky. Women may feel too fatigued from dealing with heartbreaks and deceitful men to embark on yet another risky endeavor. Nevertheless, I reside in Atlanta.
I discovered he was married (LOL), how you may ask? This is how.
He invited me to attend a conference that he was going to attend. Upon my arrival, I found myself in a lavish cocktail gathering, surrounded by prominent faces. He excused himself to go to the restroom, and I turned towards a stand. There, I saw the event manual and decided to flip through the pages. While doing so, I stumbled upon a photo that immediately caught my attention. The caption beneath it read "Mr. Pat Magrath and Mrs. Dr. June Magrath." It was then that I realized that the man I was with was already married. I was left speechless, feeling my heart pounding against my chest.
Pat eventually returned, and I showed him what had caught my eye. He promised to explain, but before he could say anything, his colleagues arrived, and we were forced to engage in small talk. After the event, we got into the limo and the ride home felt interminable. He revealed that he had been married for over twelve years without children, but didn't explain why he had misled me. He sobbed and pleaded with me not to leave him, declaring his love for me repeatedly. I would pack to leave, but he'd beg and end up having sex. This pattern persisted for a month, until I suddenly realized I never really wanted to leave.
We had been dating for three years prior to that night and I had moved in with him, growing accustomed to a comfortable lifestyle that he was responsible for. I couldn't bear the thought of going back to work. I naively thought that he and his wife were separated, since she was never present. He made promises to take care of me, divorce his wife, and marry me. Looking back, I realize now that I was holding onto anything to keep him. He would fly back and forth between New York and Atlanta to be with her and me, but I was content as long as he loved me - or so I thought.
One cold December day, I discovered I was pregnant, which caused a mix of emotions. After telling him, he seemed excited at first, but then his attitude changed when his wife also became pregnant around the same time. Despite all the promises he had made to me, he became cold and demanded that I end the pregnancy. I pleaded and begged with him, but he stopped talking to me and had his lawyer become our intermediary.
I secretly followed his wife on social media and watched as she enjoyed an extravagant baby shower, causing me to envy her happy life. The laughter, the cheers, the celebration made me burn. I saw Pat in her photos beaming with joy. Why wasn't Pat with me? Why doesn't he love me like he loves this woman? What does she have I don't? I pondered.
After several months, his spouse experienced a miscarriage. I felt a sense of satisfaction secretly, hoping that without the distraction, he would return to me and prioritize me in his life. I believed that he would return, begging and giving everything possible to reconcile with me.
When the baby was due after nine months, Pat's attorney came to the hospital and carried out a covert DNA test to confirm Pat's paternity. The lawyer then added Pat's name to the birth certificate, obtained a copy, and waited for me to awaken.
The lawyer was the first person opening my eyes to. Congratulating me warmly, I pleaded for Pat and he me assured Pat will do so, but, before the communication line is open I must first sign some documents. Although I felt uneasy, I was too preoccupied with the pain of childbirth to act on it. The lawyer suggested that I review the documents with a lawyer before signing, but insisted that they must be signed first before Pat will contact me. The nurse brought the crying newborn into the room, causing me to feel a rush of affection. Holding him in my arms was like falling in love with Pat all over again. This strange delicate creature vying for my attention as if to tell me, I only mattered to him. The lawyer wished me well and left.
Reflecting on my past, I had never experienced such intense feelings of isolation until that moment. The shame stemming from my pregnancy was so overwhelming that I couldn't even confide in my closest friend. This deep sense of loneliness led to my descent into a severe state of depression. To remedy the situation, I formulated a plan to introduce my baby to my parents, as I knew they will never reject me.
Despite the tempting offer of a fully-paid condo and a monthly salary of $25,000, along with additional expenses, I knew that it could never be enough. I could have sued for more, but my ultimate desire was to have Pat by my side again, in my embrace. I didn't want to push him away, and therefore, I obliged to the agreement's stringent condition of confidentiality. According to the clause, I could not contact him, his family, or anyone else connected to the family. Violating this rule would result in a complete loss of financial support and probable loss of custody of my child.
It's true, reaching out to my son's father could result in losing my boy. Despite how heartless he was, I still long for him. I miss his warm eyes, kind grin, and calming voice. As my son gets older, resembling his father more each day, I dread having to explain his absence. I have no clue how to handle this, perhaps life will work it out since I'm out of ideas.
Lately, I've noticed his wife's recent Instagram posts getting lots of congratulations for expecting triplets. She looks ready to deliver any moment, and I can't help but wonder if she'll require a maid to help her with the babies. I'd be a great candidate since I just had a child myself. The question is, how much can I change my appearance, in case the couple may need help with their newborn, Pat may need a replacement for his Mrs. whenever she is lacking. For now my readers be weary of the tall, dark and handsome.
Note*letters displayed are independently chosen by Steve Wick's editorial team.
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