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After catching my husband cheating, my world collapsed. He blamed me, saying I’d stopped being “a woman,” and even my family sided with him. Hurt and furious, I decided to take revenge in the cruelest way — by cheating with the first man I met. On the street, I saw a man in tattered clothes eating a bun and assumed he was homeless. My husband was livid when he found out, and we divorced soon after.
Weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant. Though I first considered ending it, something inside told me to keep the baby. Nine months later, at the hospital, I froze — the “homeless man” stood before me, not ragged but in a white coat. He was a doctor, not a beggar. I was overwhelmed with shame, but he simply said, “Everything will be fine.” He helped deliver the baby — and later became the true father my child deserved.
