When I got pregnant with our fourth child, my husband Mason was unusually excited and insisted on throwing a gender reveal party—something we’d never done. I thought it was about family bonding, but it was really the moment he made a heartbreaking choice.

We already had three daughters, and though Mason had always said he wanted a big family, I didn’t realize how badly he wanted a son—until the cake revealed pink. Without a word, he walked out and didn’t return.Days later, his father, Thomas, assured me I wouldn’t be alone. He supported us emotionally and financially, stepping in when Mason disappeared.Weeks later, I saw Mason at a baby store—with another pregnant woman, shopping for a boy. When I confronted him, he coldly said, “She couldn’t give me a son.”But fate had other plans. I gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom I named Thomas Jr., in honor of the man who stood by us.Two months later, Mason came back, asking for a second chance. I stood firm.“You made your choice,” I told him, and closed the door.Now, with four children and a newfound strength, I’m building a future on love—not expectations.