We’ve only been together for a month before I’m pregnant. I expect him to flee, but he’s over the moon. Throughout the almost nine months, he’s always there for me, rubbing my back and legs and getting me whatever food I’m craving. I couldn’t ask for more. It’s only when I go into labor that he makes a confession. He’s an alien. My baby is half-alien. If my contractions would slow down, I just might kill him.
Advertisement
Get insights into your website traffic, analyze your website's audience, and optimize your website for better results with Website Statistic.
