The driver began flir:ting with me, showering me with compliments and even asking me out. I transformed to him in disbelief and showed him my very obvious baby bump but what he said next left me completely speechless. I had just ended my last prenatal check-up, and everything seemed perfect.
The doctor told me that in just ten days, I’d finally be holding my baby. I walked out smiling, my mind was full of thoughts of names, diapers, and tiny socks. Then suddenly, the sharp sound of brakes snapped me out of my daydream.
A car stopped beside me, and a smooth male voice called out from the window:
“Hey, did you know that walking ahead of me is a Renoir painting?”
I froze. Was he talking to me? I glanced around and no one else was nearby.
My heart skipped. He was talking to me… a woman in her ninth month of pregnancy. I lifted my hand to show him my engagement ring, hoping he’d get the hint.
But he just smirked. Half-jokingly, I turned sideways so he could clearly see my big belly—nine months along, unmistakable. Instead of backing off, he grinned wider.
“So what? We could still go on a date, right?”
I felt my cheeks burn part embarrassment, part anger, and maybe a strange, fleeting sense of flattery. It had been a while since anyone looked at me as a woman and not just an expectant mother.
Still, I stood my ground. “Can’t you see I’m pregnant? I’m due in ten days!”
He squinted, gazed directly at my belly, and said something so surprising that I nearly dropped the flowers I was holding.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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