Penny, 25 weeks pregnant after two years of trying, thought her “miracle baby” marked a fresh start. But constant migraines left her exhausted and isolated. When her mother-in-law, Martha, suggested skipping the Fourth of July parade, and husband Steve agreed, she reluctantly stayed home.
Later that day, the kitchen faucet burst. Desperate and soaked, Penny FaceTimed Steve—he finally answered on the fourth try, snapping, “Call a plumber,” before the screen showed the truth: he wasn’t with his grandfather. He was laughing at a backyard picnic—with Hazel, his ex. Martha handed him lemonade, saying, “Just like old times,” and Steve beamed, “Mom, you outdid yourself.”
Penny drove straight there. Hazel, stunned, asked who she was. “His wife. And I’m 25 weeks pregnant,” Penny said. Hazel replied, “You told me you were single,” and left. Martha then sneered, “Maybe we need a paternity test.” Penny had enough. “I’m a nurse. I come from integrity.”
Steve stayed silent.
Two days later, Penny is looking for an apartment and planning for the baby—alone. “Trust, once shattered, doesn’t glue back together,” she says. He left her scared and lied. “My child will grow up knowing love doesn’t lie.” That Fourth of July became her true Independence Day.
