Married, but Pregnant by a Coworker… What Should I Do?

My name is Lucía Mendoza and I live in Arévalo, where the days pass slowly along the banks of the Duero River. I hesitated a lot before writing these lines, but the pain and confusion are suffocating me. I can no longer remain silent: I need to unburden myself because my life has become a hopeless abyss.

It all began while I was the mother of a five-year-old girl, Martina, and the wife of a man completely absorbed by his work. My husband, Javier, is a tireless worker. He is rarely at home.
My mother picks up Martina from school and takes care of her in the afternoons, since we both return late.

I work at a major company in Valladolid: the salary is good, but it demands complete dedication.
Two months ago, I was sent on a four-day business trip with a coworker, Alejandro. I asked my mother to stay with Martina, and she agreed. I left feeling at ease.

We traveled in the company’s car. The workdays were intense, and upon arriving at the hotel, he invited me to dinner at the restaurant.
I accepted. The evening was surprisingly pleasant.
We talked about everything: I learned he was divorced, childless, completely devoted to his job.
His voice, his laughter… I felt free, alive — something I hadn’t felt in years.
For the first time, I relaxed next to a man who was almost a stranger.
After dinner, we each went to our rooms, but something inside me started to falter.

The next day, after work, we had dinner together again.
We finished early, and Alejandro suggested celebrating our success with a bottle of Rioja. I like wine, so I accepted.
We ate, drank, laughed… and I sensed where things were heading.
My heart was pounding, but I decided to withdraw.
He insisted on walking me to the elevator, and there it happened: his lips found mine, and a surge of passion swept us away.
We ended up in his room, surrendering to a night of dizzying passion I never imagined experiencing.
The following night was even more intense, more irrational: I plunged into that fire, forgetting my home, my marriage, everything.

Back in Arévalo, I tried to erase what had happened.
I focused on work, avoided Alejandro…
But two weeks later, the blow came: I was pregnant.
The world vanished beneath my feet.
I immediately knew the baby was his.
Javier and I had been distant for months, with no intimacy.
I thought about bringing up divorce — our relationship was already breaking apart — but I postponed it out of fear.
Now, this child is the undeniable proof of my betrayal.

I don’t know Alejandro well.
He was kind during the trip, but… can I trust him?
What if he runs away once he finds out?

I wander around the house like a ghost.
I watch Martina and Javier while guilt eats me alive.
This child grows inside me, and I don’t know what decision to make.
Should I confess to my husband?
He would erupt in anger, throw me out, and I would be left alone with two children.
Should I tell Alejandro?
Would he mock me, vanish without a trace?

I have decided to reveal the truth to him in a few days, but every hour feels like agony.
My mind is a whirlwind, and my heart is torn between fear and shame.
I longed for peace, and now I am a prisoner of the chaos I created.

My mother looks at me with concern, but I remain silent:
how can I confess that her exemplary daughter has fallen into such disgrace?
Javier comes home late, mutters a tired “hello,” and doesn’t notice my trembling.
Alejandro passes by me at the office: his gaze is warm, but distant.

What should I do?
Have the baby and leave my husband?
Run away from everything?
Or remain silent until the truth explodes like a storm?

I dreamed of another child, of happiness… but not like this.
Not through betrayal.
Now, standing at the edge of the precipice, every step brings me closer to the abyss.

I need advice!
I’m desperate, lost.
My life is falling apart, and I don’t know how to save myself, my children, or my soul.
This baby is both my guilt and my hope, but I’m afraid it will destroy what little I have left.

What do I do with this truth burning inside me?
I long for answers, but maybe it’s already too late.