Secret Mission Turned Out to Be Fathering My Bestie’s Baby Chapter 04

Secret Mission Turned Out to Be Fathering My Bestie’s Baby Chapter 04

“Emma!”

Nathan’s roar yanked me out of sleep. I was drenched in cold sweat, my heart racing.

“Stop pretending. Get up!”

He pulled me off the couch. My head cracked against the coffee table, and I saw stars.

“I know we wronged you. Take it out on me all you want. But why do you have to push Jessica to the brink? She just had a baby—she’s at her most vulnerable!”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I already knew another accusation was coming my way.

Jessica was being doxxed and cyberbullied.

She ran a moderately popular Instagram comic account, known for drawing our daily friendship. She had over a hundred thousand followers.

Overnight, someone had found holes in her stories and posted a thread on Reddit accusing her of being the other woman—seducing her best friend’s husband, having a baby behind her back, and forcing her best friend to become the child’s godmother.

In the comments, former fans turned on her, calling her fake, shameless, disgusting.

The thread, logically and emotionally, could only have been posted by the best friend herself.

I let out a dry laugh.

Jessica had played a brutal hand—destroying her own reputation to frame me and push me out of the picture for good. She didn’t need to go that far. I’d already said I’d file for divorce.

“Someone found the hospital. They attacked Jessica. They almost hurt the baby. Did you send them?”

Nathan was livid, his face and neck scarlet, eyes bloodshot.

“Enjoy your revenge?”

I held out my phone. “I didn’t do it.”

But of course he wouldn’t believe me. He knocked it out of my hand.

“Now. Record an Instagram Live statement. Say the post wasn’t from you. Say it’s all lies. None of it happened.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t do it. And I won’t lie on camera.”

Nathan looked like he was grinding his teeth to dust. He punched the coffee table.

The glass top—over a decade old—cracked.

“Emma, don’t make me hate you.”

His voice was strained, layered with something I couldn’t read.

“Nathan, I already hate you.”

We stared at each other for a long beat. Then he got up and slammed the door behind him.

The clarification video was my mother’s. She filmed it with red-rimmed eyes.

“I don’t know what kind of person would spread these lies. Jessica is my legal goddaughter. My biological daughter, Emma, died in a car accident when she was twelve.”

“Jessica created her comic as a way to imagine what Emma would have been like if she’d grown up.”

“Jessica and Nathan have been together since high school. They fell in love, got married, had a baby. There’s no affair, no betrayal, no falling-out between friends.”

They submitted a death certificate and cremation record—Jessica’s mother’s documents, with key identifying information covered. Just enough to confuse the public.

The narrative flipped instantly. Everyone rallied behind Jessica.

I replayed the clip a dozen times. “My biological daughter died” played on a loop.

My heart felt like it had been numbed to the point of breaking.

With shaking hands, I called my mother.

I wanted to ask why she hated me so much.

I wanted to ask why she’d side with outsiders to destroy me.

But the call went straight to voicemail.

She knew I’d confront her. She’d blocked me in advance.

Bitter tears rose in my throat.

If they wanted me dead, fine. I’d disappear for real.

The pain in my stomach flared again. My vision started to blur.

Before I lost consciousness, I dialed a man’s number.

“Can you come get me?”

“I’ll be there.”