After my divorce from Ethan — who never wanted children — I made a decision that surprised even my closest friends: I was going to become a single mother through sperm donation. No husband, no boyfriend. Just me and a baby.I picked a donor carefully — tall, smart, healthy. It felt strange building the idea of a child from a profile, but I was certain of one thing: I wanted to be a mother.
Nine months later, my son Alan was born. He had unruly brown curls, a bright laugh, and a curiosity that filled our home with light. For eight years, it was just us — and it was enough. Then my mother fell ill, and we moved back to my hometown.
That’s when I noticed something strange. At the grocery store, the woman at the register dropped her scanner when she saw Alan. Former classmates would stare, whisper, and turn away. Alan noticed too. “Mom, why do your friends look at me funny?”
“They’re just surprised,” I told him. “They haven’t seen you before.” But the unease grew — until the summer festival. There, I ran into Jude — my best friend from the old days. Time had given him a few gray hairs, but his warm smile hadn’t changed. He was with his wife, Eleanor, but when his eyes met Alan’s, he froze.