He Showed His Marriage Certificate When I Miscarried

Synopsis

When I needed a dilation and curettage after my miscarriage, my best friend, Emily Parker, was rushed to the same hospital for an ovarian cyst torsion. The nurse held two consent forms and asked, "Who's the patient's family?" My boyfriend of six years, David Bennett, stepped past me and pulled a marriage certificate from his briefcase. "I'm Emily's husband. I'll sign for her," he said. The room went quiet. I stared at the wedding picture attached to the certificate, unable to recognize the groom for a long time. The man in the photo was David, the same man who held me every night but wouldn't look at me at work. The woman in the photo was Emily, my best friend who had spent the last three years complaining about her unhappy marriage and cursing her jerk of a husband with me. The registration date was exactly the day when David went on a business trip to Singerport three years ago. The nurse looked at the marriage certificate and then pointed at me. "This patient also needs surgery. What's your relationship with her?" asked the nurse. I didn't look at the nurse. I only looked at David. "The baby is yours," I said. "David, tell them what our relationship is." David clenched the marriage certificate for him and Emily and stayed silent for a few seconds. Then he spoke in a cold voice. "She's only an ordinary employee. She learned she lost the baby, so her emotions got a bit out of control." The looks my colleagues gave me went from shock to contempt. I took the consent form from the nurse and signed my own name. "He's right," I said. "We're only colleagues." In that instant, I was done with this hidden relationship.