My Wife Forced My 7-Months-Pregnant Daughter to Sleep on an Air Mattress on the Floor — She Never Expected How Far I’d Go to Protect My Child

That evening, Aurelia sat in the guest room—on the real bed—eyeing the crib. She rubbed her belly. “Thank you, Dad.”

I kissed her forehead. “Always.”

I filed for divorce the next week. No arguments. Just a clean break.

Vionna spun lies to friends, called me heartless. But the truth spread. People saw through her. Some admitted they’d noticed her coldness but stayed silent.

I had no regrets.

Aurelia stayed for weeks. We painted the nursery, assembled furniture, debated crib mobiles. She shared her fears about motherhood. I told her she’d be amazing.

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