“You took a choice away from me that belonged to my body,” she said quietly.

He looked away.

“It was the safest option at the time.” “It was my choice to make.

Not yours.” He finally admitted it — that once he found the trust clause, he understood a child would block him forever. I thought we could adopt later, he muttered, as if that were the point.

“The issue was never how a child would arrive,” she said.

“It’s that you made a decision about my body, and then watched me grieve for four years while pretending to share the pain.” He had nothing left to say.