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“You’ll suffer naturally because you’re toxic,” my doctor husband sneered, blocking the nurses from performing a C-section for my giant 10-pound baby as revenge for his intern. I writhed in pain, clutching the bed rails until my knuckles turned white. When the grueling delivery finally ended, the heavy delivery room doors banged open. My husband staggered in, his face drained of color as he looked at the newborn chart, fell to the floor, and shrieked, “No… that’s impossible! Whose child is-“

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Scarcely a minute passed before the heavy mahogany door swung inward. Gavin Barrett stepped into the suite. He was a striking, imposing figure draped in a bespoke charcoal suit, projecting an aura of terrifying calm. He offered no saccharine platitudes or performative pity regarding my near-death experience. Instead, he approached the desk and dropped continue reading …

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