My Husband Turned Our Wedding Night into a Catastrophe

I never imagined my wedding night would start with hesitation.

“Scott, can we… can we talk for a bit?” I asked tentatively, exhaustion weighing heavy on me after the whirlwind of our big day.

Scott frowned, clearly frustrated.

“Talk? Now?” he questioned, his tone betraying his irritation.

“I’m just so tired,” I said softly. “I think we need to take a moment, just to breathe.”

To his credit, he nodded and masked his disappointment with a kiss on my cheek. But hours later, I woke up to something bizarre. The bed was shaking, and Scott wasn’t beside me. I blinked in the dim light, my eyes finally focusing on him kneeling beside the bed, holding a baby.

“Scott?” I gasped, utterly confused. “What’s going on? Where did the baby come from?”

He froze, his eyes darting like he was scrambling for an excuse. Finally, he whispered,

“Everly, this is Ella. She’s my orphaned niece. My stepsister, Maya, she’s gone…”

“Your stepsister?” I repeated, struggling to process. “Gone? When? How? Why didn’t I know about this?”

Scott’s gaze dropped.

“I found out about her just weeks ago. I was scared you’d leave if you knew,” he admitted.

You kept such a big thing from me? Scott! How can we build a life together with secrets and half-truths?” I asked, my voice rising.

But the conversation didn’t go far. I was too tired to keep pressing, though unease curled in my gut as I lay awake long after. A baby? What on earth were we going to do? We had only been legally married for about twelve hours.

The next day, we returned home to Scott’s sprawling estate. Ella came with us, and suddenly, it was like a decision had been made without my consent. Days turned into weeks, and though I cared for Ella, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Scott,” I asked one evening, “if you and Maya were estranged… so estranged that I didn’t know about her before, why insist on raising her baby?”

“She’s innocent, Everly. Ella has no one else,” he said firmly, sidestepping the question.

Frustrated, I started digging for answers. One day, while Scott was at work, I found a photo on his desk. It showed him with a pregnant woman, Maya, I assumed, but they weren’t estranged.

They looked happy.

When Scott came home, I confronted him.

“Explain this,” I demanded, holding up the photo. “You said you were estranged, but this says otherwise. Doesn’t it?”

Scott sighed deeply.

“Alright. I wasn’t truthful. I stayed in touch with Maya and helped her, but I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why hide it? Why lie?” I asked, anger flaring.

“I thought if you loved Ella without the complications of her origins, we could become a family,” he confessed.

“Complications? You mean the truth?” I shot back. “Scott, we can’t build a life together like this.”

The argument only got heated from there, and I suggested that we consider adoption for Ella.

“Maybe another family can give her the stability she deserves,” I said tentatively.

“You think I married you to find Ella a mother?” he asked. “Why can’t you just be a good person, Everly?”

The tension became unbearable. Days later, I took Ella and left, seeking clarity on a quiet beach. I had grown to adore the little girl, but there was just something so strange about it all. After about fifteen minutes of us just looking at the water, a woman approached me.