INVITED TO MY EX-HUSBAND’S WEDDING — HE RUSHED TO THE HOSPITAL WHEN HE SAW MY BABY GIRL
Invited to My Ex-Husband’s Wedding
Six months after our divorce, I was certain I had finally broken free from the past.
I thought everything was over.
I was wrong.
That morning, as I lay in a bed at St. Mary’s Hospital in Mumbai, my newborn baby girl sleeping peacefully beside me—the child born of a love that was abandoned and denied—my phone suddenly vibrated.
One name appeared on the screen.
Arjun Mehta.
The man who once promised me forever… and was the first to walk away when I became pregnant.
I almost didn’t answer.
Almost.
“Why are you calling?” I asked coldly when I picked up.
His voice sounded strangely cheerful, as if nothing had ever happened.
“I’m getting married this weekend,” he said. “I just thought… it would be polite to invite you.”
I laughed—not from joy, but from pain.
“Arjun, I just gave birth. I’m not going anywhere.”
There were a few seconds of silence.
Then he said flatly,
“Alright. I just wanted to let you know.”
And he hung up.
I stared at the ceiling, swallowed by memories.
Our marriage didn’t end because love disappeared.
It ended because Arjun chose ambition over family.
When I told him I was pregnant, he called me selfish. He said I was ruining his future. A month later, he filed for divorce—and left me completely.
No explanation.
No goodbye.
Thirty-five minutes passed.
Just as sleep began to pull me under, the door to my room suddenly burst open.
The nurses gasped.
My mother jumped to her feet.
Arjun walked in—pale, breathless, his mind clearly in chaos.
“Where is she?” he shouted.
“Arjun, you can’t just—” I started.
But he didn’t listen.
He walked straight to the cradle.
Then he stopped.
It was as if time itself froze.
His hands trembled as he stared at my baby.
“She… she looks like me,” he whispered. “Exactly like me.”
The entire room fell silent.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
He turned to me, fear and panic written all over his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me our child was a girl?”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“Why would I? You said the baby wasn’t yours.”
“No—no, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly.
“I thought… I thought the baby was gone. My fiancée told me you weren’t pregnant anymore.”
My chest tightened.
“She lied to you. Congratulations.”
He ran his hand through his hair, struggling to breathe.
“She forced me to invite you. She wanted to make sure you were completely out of my life. But when I told her you had just given birth…”
His voice broke.
“She screamed,” he continued. “She said it was impossible for a baby to exist. That you were lying.”
My eyes widened.
“Then,” he whispered, “she fainted.”
I slowly sat up.
“Arjun… what did you do?”
He swallowed hard.
“I ran. Straight here.”
And then—
His fiancée, Nisha, suddenly stormed into the room, her eyes burning with rage.
She pointed at my child.
“That baby is the evidence!” she screamed. “She’ll destroy our wedding!”
Everyone froze.
A doctor stepped forward and spoke calmly:
“Ma’am, the DNA test Mr. Mehta requested earlier is ready.”
Nisha stopped breathing.
Arjun went pale.
“And the result,” the doctor continued, “is positive. The child is unquestionably Mr. Arjun Mehta’s daughter.”
Nisha screamed, shaking with rage and fear.
“No! That’s impossible! Because—”
She suddenly collapsed into a chair.
That’s when the truth came out.
She was the one who lied.
She was the one who said the baby was lost.
She was the one who pushed for the wedding—because she was pregnant too, and terrified of losing everything if Arjun discovered the truth.
Arjun looked silently at my daughter.
He walked toward me and knelt beside the bed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s too late for us… but will you let me be her father?”
I looked at my baby—sleeping peacefully, innocent, unaware of the pain I had endured.
I smiled.
“You don’t have to be my husband,” I said.
“But if you want to be her father… prove it.”
As the nurses escorted Nisha out, the wedding she dreamed of collapsed completely.
And me?
I quietly held my daughter close.
At last, I had won—not because he came back, but because I chose not to go back to him.