Chapter 3
The cab arrived in front of my parents' apartment building.
As soon as I got out, my phone rang again.
This time, it was my mom.
"Emmy, where are you? Michael called me and said you two had a fight," she said, worry lacing her voice.
"Mom, I'm downstairs. I'll be up in a minute," I replied.
"Wh-Why did you come back?" she asked.
"Let's talk when I get upstairs," I said, ending the call and making my way up in the elevator.
The door was unlocked, allowing me to walk in without any trouble.
My parents were both in the living room.
My mom rushed over the moment she spotted me. "Emmy, what's wrong?"
"Mom, I want to stay here for a few days," I said, dropping my bag and sinking onto the couch.
My dad emerged from the bedroom and fixed his gaze on me. "Did you and Michael have a fight?"
"It's not a fight," I responded, shaking my head. "I've thought this thing through."
"About what?" my mom asked, sitting next to me and grasping my hand. "Emmy, you're about to have the baby. You can't let your emotions take control. No couple holds a grudge overnight—"
"Mom," I interrupted, "I'm going to divorce him."
The living room fell into complete silence.
My mom froze, and my dad's face fell.
"What did you say?" My mom's voice rose, her tone shifting dramatically.
"I said I'm going to divorce Michael," I repeated, my voice calm.
"Why?" my dad inquired, his voice low.
I pulled out my phone and presented everything to them, including the bank transfers, the chat screenshots, and the event that unfolded at the service area today.
My dad's expression darkened with each detail I shared.
My mom listened, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"That bastard!" Dad exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table.
"Harold, calm down," my mom urged, wiping her tears before turning to me. "Emmy, have you truly thought this through?"
"Yes, I have," I assured her with a nod. "I can't continue in this marriage."
"But what about the baby?" My mom glanced at my belly. "You're about to give birth. Divorcing now could harm the baby."
"That's why I'll wait until after the baby is born and I've recovered before filing for divorce," I explained, squeezing her hand. "Mom, I understand your concern, but my decision is final."
"What about the baby?" she asked again.
"I will raise the baby myself," I said firmly. "I won't allow him to have any custody."
My dad paused for a moment. "Have you found a lawyer?"
"Yes, Charlotte Evans. She was my roommate in college," I replied.
"Alright." My dad nodded. "You will stay here for the next two months and focus on your health. We will handle everything else after the baby arrives."
"Thanks, Dad," I said, leaning back on the couch and suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion.
"Go get some rest," Mom said, helping me to my feet. "I'll prepare your room."
*****
I went back to my room and lay down on the bed.
I stared at the ceiling, my mind completely blank.
My phone buzzed again.
It was a message from Michael.
Michael: [Emmy, where are you? Can we meet up and talk?]
Michael: [I know you're mad at me, but can you come home first? We can talk things through.]
Michael: [My mom's worried about you, too. Even if you don't care about me, at least think about the baby.]
I gazed at the messages, my finger hovering over the screen for a few seconds.
Then I began typing a reply.
Me: [Michael, I'm at my parents' place. Don't worry about us. I will be staying here for the next two months to prepare for the birth.]
Me: [We'll talk after the baby arrives.]
I sent the message, and Michael replied instantly.
Michael: [Talk about what?]
I scoffed.
Me: [Divorce.]
Michael: [What?]
Michael: [Emily, have you lost your mind?]
Michael: [You are really going to divorce me because of what happened today?]
Michael: [I was only picking up a coworker. Do you truly have to make such a big deal out of it?]
I stared at his messages, feeling completely drained.
He still didn't understand.
Or perhaps he didn't want to understand.
I let out a sigh, not bothering to respond. I turned off my phone instead.
Then I shut my eyes, ready to sleep.
The door opened quietly.
My mom entered, holding a cup of water. "Emmy, drink this. It will warm you up."
I sat up and accepted the cup. "Mom, I'm sorry."
"Oh, sweetheart, you don't need to apologize to me," my mom said as she sat down beside me and gently patted my back. "It's our fault. We should have recognized what Michael was really like. We let you go through all of this."
"It's not your fault," I replied while shaking my head. "I was the one who failed to see him for who he was."
"Don't overthink it. Get some rest," she advised as she stood up. "The baby's almost here. Right now, taking care of yourself is what matters most. Your dad and I will handle everything else."
"Okay." I nodded, but tears began streaming down my face before I could rein them in.
My mom gently wiped my tears away. "Don't cry, honey. It isn't good for the baby."
I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself and keep the tears at bay.
After my mom left, I lay back down on the bed.
The baby kicked again.
I rubbed my belly gently and whispered, "Baby, I will protect you.
"I will give you a safe future, free from all this mess."
Outside, the night felt deep and heavy.
Meanwhile, my battle had just begun.