Eighteen years ago, Nico Ferraro looked me straight in the eye, his gaze steady and certain, and promised me we would live a child-free life forever. No kids. No complications. Just the two of us, building a future exactly the way we wanted it. I believed him completely, with a kind of blind faith that only comes from loving someone too deeply. I trusted him so much that I made a decision most people would never even consider. I went under the knife. I let the doctors take out my uterus so there would be no chance, no temptation, no accidents down the road. No children. No regrets. I told myself it was a sacrifice worth making, because it was for him, for us, for the life we had promised each other.
For years, I never questioned it. I never doubted him.
Then one day, everything changed without warning.