Thanksgiving dinner at Mark’s parents’ house was in full swing. The long oak table groaned under the weight of roasted turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and all the traditional sides. Laughter and warm conversation filled the dining room as Mark’s extended family his parents, two sisters, their husbands, and a handful of cousins passed plates and shared stories. Emma sat beside Mark, her hand resting on her prominent 24-week pregnant belly, smiling politely while the baby kicked steadily beneath her palm. “You’re glowing, sweetheart,” Mark’s mother said warmly, reaching over to pat her hand. “That belly is getting so big! Mark must be taking such good care of you.” “He is,” Emma replied, squeezing her husband’s hand. The words tasted bitter. Mark had been nothing but attentive rubbing her feet, helping with chores, proudly showing ultrasound photos to anyone who asked. Yet every kick from the baby inside her reminded her whose DNA was really growing there. Mark leaned over and kis
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