Losing a child is an unimaginable heartbreak, and when that grief is compounded by the actions of a trusted friend, it becomes even harder to bear. Holly never expected that in the midst of mourning her stillborn baby, she would also face a betrayal that left her feeling disrespected and deeply hurt.

Emma and I had been friends since high school. We were both 26 and, by some incredible stroke of fate, became pregnant around the same time last June. I was ecstatic—sharing the experience of pregnancy with my best friend felt like a gift. From the moment I learned I was having a boy, I knew his name would be Evander. It was a rare yet familiar name, easily shortened to “Evan.” But most importantly, it held deep meaning—it was my husband’s name.

Then, tragedy struck. My baby was stillborn. Just four days later, Emma gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

I was still reeling from my loss when Emma came to visit, cradling her newborn. But nothing could have prepared me for what she said next.

“I named him Evander,” she announced.

I was stunned. She knew how much that name meant to me—how it honored both my baby and my husband. It felt like she had taken something precious from me, something irreplaceable.

Anger surged through me. “Why would you take my son’s name? Of all the names in the world, why that one? And it’s my husband’s name, too!”

Emma barely flinched. “Your husband and I have known each other since kindergarten. The name doesn’t belong to him alone,” she said flatly. Then she added, “Your grief isn’t my responsibility. I can’t let it dictate my choices.”

In that moment, I knew our friendship was over. There was no coming back from this.

Did I overreact?