The Secret Lunches That Changed Everything I’ve always believed that life somehow knows how to even things out. Yeah, it throws curveballs—big ones—but then, out of nowhere, it hands you something beautiful to hold on to. I’m Bree, I’m 20 years old, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the people you love can shape your whole world… even in ways you never expected. Growing up, I was my parents’ whole universe. Their only child, their shining star. They gave me everything—fancy birthday parties, top-notch schools, endless hugs.

On Mother’s Day, I had imagined my husband, Daniel, walking through the door with a bouquet of flowers, maybe even a cake. It wasn’t the first time he’d surprised me with something sweet, but this time—this time, he walked in carrying a baby. A real, living, breathing baby. A baby that wasn’t ours. I stood frozen in the kitchen, my mind struggling to process the scene unfolding in front of me. “I know it’s a shock,” Daniel said, his voice calm and steady as always. “But this is your dream,

I hadn’t spoken to my father in six years when the call came. “Cara, I’m sorry,” Greta, the attorney handling his estate, said softly. “Your father passed away in his sleep. Someone needs to handle the house.” I sat there, holding the phone, long after she hung up. Not because I was grieving. Not because I was in shock. But because, deep down, I didn’t know if I even wanted to go back. Philip and I never had the kind of relationship people write glowing tribute posts about. He wasn’t