Chapter 1
"Emily, the baby needs a real family," Susan Ray said.
She was sitting on my couch, her five-month baby bump on full display.
I looked at Mark Holden.
He kept his head down, not saying a word.
"Can we have the house?" she asked.
She smiled, her hand resting on her belly.
I smiled too.
"Sure," I said.
Mark's head snapped up.
"We'll sign the papers tomorrow," I said.
I stood up and looked toward the door.
Mark's mother, Margaret, was standing there with her suitcase.
"Let's go, Emily," she said.
She didn't even spare Mark a glance.
"Mom!" Mark called out.
"I'm leaving with Emily," she said.
*****
Three days ago, I saw Mark's car outside the hospital.
It was that black Volkswagen, and I could have recited the plate with my eyes closed.
It was parked right outside the OB-GYN.
I thought he was there for me.
I'd taken the day off for a prenatal checkup and just found out I was eight weeks pregnant.
Before I could even share the news, I saw him get out of the car.
He was gently supporting a woman as she got out.
She was wearing a loose dress, and her belly was already showing.
I stood there and watched them walk into the OB-GYN.
Mark had his hand on her waist.
I knew that gesture all too well.
I took a couple of steps back, leaning against the wall.
Someone glanced my way.
"Hey, you don't look so well," they said.
"I'm okay," I replied.
I crouched down, my hand pressed to my stomach.
Eight weeks.
She looked like she was four or five months along.
Doing the math, that meant it happened right after we'd been married for a year.
I pulled out my phone and called Margaret.
"Margaret, where did Mark go today?" I asked.
"Wasn't he on a business trip? He left yesterday," she replied.
I hung up.
Crouched in the corner of the hospital, I suddenly remembered three months ago.
Mark said he was swamped with work, always off on business trips two or three days every week.
I even went out of my way to buy him a new suitcase.
A black one, with a combination lock.
He told me I was really considerate.
I stood up and walked into the OB-GYN waiting room.
I found a quiet corner and sat down.
I waited.
Twenty minutes later, they came out.
"The baby's healthy. Five months along and developing well," the woman said.
She smiled, hooking her arm around Mark's.
"Mark, I'm really craving something sour," she said.
"Sure, I'll get you something with vinegar in it," Mark said.
They walked right past me.
Mark didn't even recognize me.
Or maybe he never bothered to look my way.
I followed them out, keeping my distance as I watched them get into the car.
The car drove off.
I stood outside the hospital and pulled up my photos on my phone.
I swiped back to a picture from three months ago.
A selfie we took in the living room, just before Mark headed out on his business trip.
He was smiling in it, promising to take me to Sunset Bay once the project wrapped.
I pinched the screen to zoom in.
A faint lipstick stain was on his neck.
It was a light pink.
I didn't even notice it at the time.
When I got home, I didn't turn on the lights.
I sat on the couch, waiting in the dark.
Eight o'clock, nine o'clock, ten o'clock.
At eleven, the door finally opened.
Mark walked in, dragging his suitcase behind him.
"Emily? Why are you sitting in the dark?" he asked.
I didn't move.
"Man, that trip wore me out. The client was such a pain," he said.
He flipped on the light and saw my face.
"What's wrong? You look terrible," he said.
"I went to the hospital today," I said.
Mark was stunned for a moment.
"What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" he asked.
"OB-GYN," I replied.
His hand hesitated, and he put down his suitcase.
"What were you there for?" he asked.
"I'm pregnant," I said.
Mark's expression shifted.
First, he looked surprised, then a mix of emotions crossed his face, and finally he forced a smile.
"Really? That's great," he said, the smile barely holding.
He came over, reaching out to hug me.
I instinctively stepped back.
"Eight weeks," I said.
"Eight weeks is good," he replied.
"And you?" I asked.
Mark looked confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"How far along is she?" I asked.
His face went pale.
"Emily, what are you getting at?" he asked.
"Five months, right? And the baby's healthy?" I said.
Mark took a step back.
"Did you follow me?" he asked.
"I was there for my prenatal checkup," I said.
"You," he said, and stopped.
"I saw you with another woman at the OB-GYN," I said.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"So, you're not even going to explain?" I pressed.
Mark stayed silent for a long time.
Then he let out a sigh.
"Emily, I was going to find a time to tell you about this," he said.
"About what?" I asked.
"She's pregnant," he said.
"I know," I replied.
"She's five months along and it's too late to do anything about it now," he said.
I looked at him.
"And?" I said, my voice cold.
"Can we figure something out?" he asked.
"Figure what out?"
Mark stared at the floor.
"She wants to keep the baby," he said.
"That's her problem," I replied.
"She said—" he started.
He paused.
"She said the baby needs a father," he said.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"So what about you, Mark? What's your excuse?"
Mark looked up, meeting my eyes.
"Emily, can't you be a little more understanding?" he said.