The wedding night should have been a beautiful memory, but for me, it turned into one filled with panic. After the reception, my wife and I returned to our room, feeling excited yet happy. She leaned gently on my shoulder and let out a long sigh: “I’m so tired today, honey.”

At the time, I didn’t think much of it, assuming anyone would be exhausted on their wedding day. Standing and greeting guests all day, then going around toasting every table—even I was ready to collapse, let alone my wife. Thinking this, I gently pulled her into my arms, holding her close to comfort her.

Then, with the lingering scent of alcohol from the party, combined with the sweet moment of our wedding day, we began our night. Although we had been in love for over a year, this was only the second time we truly “belonged to each other.” I held her very gently; her face was flushed, and she shyly pushed me away a little, only to wrap her arms tightly around my neck again. The atmosphere was sweet, awkward, and nervous, enveloping both of us.

The wedding night was very gentle; I always tried to restrain myself so that my wife wouldn’t feel pain or exhaustion. She clung to me, sometimes trembling with nervousness. When everything was over, I held her in my arms and stroked her hair: “Are you tired?” My wife hugged me and whispered: “Tired, but I’m so happy.”

She then went to the bathroom to clean up and change into clean pajamas because she is meticulous by nature. I waited on the bed, expecting her to be just a few minutes. But just a few steps out of the bathroom, she suddenly staggered and collapsed onto the floor.

I screamed in worry and rushed to catch her. Her face was pale, and her breathing was frighteningly shallow. Hearing the noise, my parents quickly ran over. As soon as my mother saw the scene, she screamed: “Oh my God! Take her to the hospital immediately!”

I carried my wife in my arms, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I had only one thought in my head: Please, please don’t let anything happen…

At the hospital, the doctor immediately took my wife into the emergency room. I was almost going crazy waiting outside. Less than 10 minutes felt like an eternity. When I saw the doctor come out, I rushed over, my voice trembling: “Doctor, is my wife okay? We… we were intimate after the wedding, and I don’t know if she was too tired or what, but she just fainted like that.”

The doctor looked at me and… gave a soft laugh. “Congratulations, sir. Your wife is pregnant, about four weeks along. I guess you two didn’t know yet? Getting married today and being pregnant too, it truly is ‘double happiness at the door.’ She fainted because she was just too tired; there’s nothing to worry about. Just make sure she gets plenty of rest.”

I froze for a few seconds. My parents were so overjoyed they almost cheered. My mother even patted my shoulder: “Well done, son!”

But me… I was dumbfounded. Not because of doubt, but because of the sheer surprise. My wife is 10 years younger than me, and we’ve been in love for over a year. Throughout that time, she always maintained her virtue. She once told me: “I’ve never done it… I want to save myself for my future husband.”

I believed her, and indeed, the first time we were intimate after the engagement ceremony, there was evidence of her first time on the bedsheet. After that, I went on a business trip and only returned close to the wedding day; we hadn’t had a chance to be intimate again. Calculating the time, the baby was definitely mine. I never expected to “hit the target” on just one try.

The doctor later advised me: “She just became pregnant, so her body is very sensitive. For the next few days, you must let her rest, especially avoiding marital relations until the pregnancy is stable.”

I nodded profusely. My father stood next to me and laughed: “Did you hear that clearly? No ‘touching’ or ‘getting handsy’ with her!”

My father’s words made me blush. A little later, my wife was moved to a general room. She opened her eyes, looking at me with worry and a slight shock upon learning she had fainted. When she heard the news of the pregnancy, she placed her hand on her abdomen, her expression a mix of bewilderment and emotion.

Afterward, my parents were so happy they called all the relatives to share the news. My father kept patting my shoulder, proud that his son had made him a grandpa in one night. I just sat by my wife’s bedside, held her hand, and looked at her belly, where a tiny life was growing. A strange feeling surged within me—a mix of worry, happiness, and gratitude… all blending into an indescribable emotion.

Our wedding night didn’t play out like a movie, but it brought a gift I could never have imagined: I was going to be a father.

And as long as my wife and child are healthy, all the initial fear… becomes insignificant.

I came home at noon. The bathroom door was slightly ajar… and I heard familiar laughter. As I walked closer, I saw my fiancé sitting in the bathtub with my own sister. I didn’t scream. I simply locked the door, took out my phone, and called her husband: “Come over right now. There’s something… you need to see.” Ten minutes later, he walked in, and the moment he saw them, he shouted…

When Emily Turner pushed open the door to her apartment at noon, she expected to hear nothing but silence. She had left work early due to a sudden migraine, eager to collapse onto the couch. But instead, the first thing she noticed was the bathroom door—slightly open. Then came the sound that made her freeze: laughter. Familiar laughter. A woman’s giggle she recognized as well as her own heartbeat.

Her sister, Claire.

For a moment, Emily stood perfectly still, trying to convince herself that there had to be another explanation. Maybe Claire had dropped by to borrow something. Maybe her fiancé, Daniel, was helping her with a surprise. She tried to believe all of it—until she stepped closer and saw their silhouettes through the frosted glass of the shower partition.

Daniel’s voice. Claire’s voice. The clink of a wine glass someone set on the edge of the tub. And then Daniel’s unmistakable laugh, low and intimate—the one he only used when he thought he was alone with someone he loved.

Emily didn’t gasp. She didn’t break down. Something inside her simply… tightened. A slow-burning clarity took over her.

She backed away, quietly shut the bathroom door, and locked it from the outside. Her hands didn’t shake. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and dialed Claire’s husband.

“Mark,” she said steadily, her eyes locked on the bathroom door. “Come over right now. There’s something… you need to see.”

Mark arrived less than ten minutes later, confused and slightly out of breath. Emily didn’t speak; she only pointed toward the bathroom.

Mark pushed open the door.

The moment he saw his wife wrapped in a towel next to Daniel—both of them pale, drenched, and terrified—he shouted with a rage so raw that it shook the tiny room.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

That’s when everything shattered at once…

Emily Turner came home one afternoon, expecting a quiet day to rest after leaving work early due to a migraine. As she entered her apartment, she noticed the bathroom door slightly ajar and heard familiar laughter—laughter she instantly recognized as her sister, Claire’s. Emily froze for a moment, trying to convince herself there was a reasonable explanation. Maybe Claire had stopped by to borrow something. Maybe Daniel, her fiancé, was helping Claire with a surprise.

But as she stepped closer, she saw their silhouettes through the frosted glass of the shower partition. The unmistakable sound of Daniel’s voice, Claire’s voice, and the clink of a wine glass. Then Daniel’s laugh—a low, intimate laugh he only used when alone with someone he loved. Emily didn’t gasp or break down. She simply felt something inside her tighten, and clarity washed over her.

Without saying a word, she locked the bathroom door, took out her phone, and called Claire’s husband, Mark. “Come over right now. There’s something… you need to see.”

Mark arrived less than ten minutes later, confused and breathless. Emily didn’t speak but pointed toward the bathroom. Mark pushed the door open and saw his wife, Claire, wrapped in a towel, drenched and pale, sitting next to Daniel, also looking terrified. His rage exploded.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” Mark shouted, his voice shaking the room.

Everything shattered at that moment.

Later, in the bathroom, Mark demanded an explanation. Claire, tearful and remorseful, admitted her mistake but struggled to explain why it happened. Daniel, guilty and ashamed, also tried to apologize, but Emily wasn’t willing to listen. The betrayal was too much.

Emily, heartbroken but resolute, told both of them to leave her home, ending their involvement in her life. Claire and Daniel left in silence, not speaking a word.

Mark, seeing Emily’s pain, asked if she needed him to stay. But Emily, though devastated, assured him that she would be okay on her own. She understood now that sometimes you have to let go of the ones you love to heal and move on. It was the start of a painful new journey for her, one that she would face with strength.