Chapter 4
My heart began pounding wildly.
I tapped open the call log and found that Michael's recent calls were all to friends and family.
He must have made last night's call on his work phone.
I checked his WhatsApp.
looked spotless. There were not many chat threads, no pinned conversations, and no suspicious female profile pictures at all.
Did I get it wrong?
Unwilling to give up, I opened the browser and checked his search history.
When I saw the latest search entries, my breath stopped, my fingers shaking uncontrollably.
[Can a man who's had a vasectomy still get a woman pregnant?]
[Is vasectomy reversal successful?]
[If a wife gets pregnant after her husband's vasectomy, whose kid is it?]
[What do you need for a paternity test?]
[How does the law deal with kids born out of wedlock?]
These words stabbed into my heart like sharp daggers.
Vasectomy? Pregnancy? Paternity test?
Michael had a vasectomy over ten years ago after Kevin was born.
We decided that together.
Back then, he said he felt sorry for me and didn't want me to suffer through childbirth again.
I'd been utterly moved back then, convinced I'd married the best man in the world.
All these years, we'd been super careful about birth control. But now...
My hand drifted involuntarily to my lower abdomen.
Fragments flashed through my mind: the bleeding after menopause, Dr. Warren's grave expression, the words "Your wife's condition is highly unusual," and Michael's deathly pale face and resentful stare.
An absurd thought, one I could barely bring myself to believe, sprouted in my mind and grew wildly.
I was pregnant, after Michael had a vasectomy?
So Dr. Warren said my case was unusual, and called Michael in.
So Michael gave me that look. He thought I cheated and the baby wasn't his.
Just then, the bedroom door was suddenly slammed open with tremendous force.
Michael stood in the doorway, eyes bloodshot, like a beast driven mad.
He walked toward me slowly, his eyes fixed on the phone in my hand.
"Who gave you permission to touch my phone?" he said, his voice rough, low, and dripping with menace.
I flinched backward in fright. The phone slipped out of my trembling hands and landed on the carpet.
He didn't pick it up. He stepped in front of me and stared down at me.
"Helen," he called. "Whose bastard is growing in your belly?"
The word "bastard" burned like a red-hot nail, driving straight into my heart and leaving it bleeding.
Over twenty years of marital bond shattered in an instant by his words.
My body shook violently from overwhelming rage and humiliation.
"Michael." I lifted my head and met his bloodshot eyes. "Say that again."
My voice was soft yet icy, as if it came from the depths of a freezer.
He seemed stunned by my reaction, and the madness in his eyes faded for a brief moment.
But it didn't last. His suspicions took hold of him again.
"Am I wrong?" he sneered. "Helen, care to explain yourself? I got a vasectomy. How could I get you pregnant? Which other man have you been fooling around with behind my back?
Every single one of his words landed like a slap across my face, burning with sharp pain.
I laughed bitterly, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Explain? Michael, is that what you think of me? That I'm a loose woman?
"When you searched online, you never wondered if the surgery might have failed or if the doctor messed up. All you thought about was that I'd cheated on you?
"Is my character worth so little in your heart?"
He fell silent. His chest heaved violently, clearly locked in a fierce internal battle.
But in the end, that pathetic bit of reason was devoured by his pride and suspicion.
"Surgery failed?" he scoffed, like it was the biggest joke he'd ever heard. "I had the vasectomy over a decade ago. Nothing went wrong for all those years, and now, when you hit menopause, suddenly it's an issue?"
"Helen, do you think I'm that gullible? You're carrying another man's child, and you expect me to be the sucker who takes the fall?
His words were getting more and more vicious, downright disgusting.
I closed my eyes, feeling like all the strength had drained from my body.
My heart hurt so much, it went numb.
I didn't want to argue with him any longer.
He had already judged me guilty, and no explanation would do any good.
I opened my eyes and looked at him calmly, my voice unnervingly clear. "Let's get a divorce."
He froze, seemingly not expecting me to bring up divorce so bluntly.
"Divorce?" He rolled the word around in his mouth, his eyes turning more menacing. "Wanna take my money and shack up with your side piece? No way in hell.
"I'll drag this out and make your life miserable. I'll make sure you and that bastard never see the light of day."