Chapter 4

The next morning, the doorbell jolted me awake.

My mom went to answer it.

Before I had a chance to get out of bed, I heard Michael's voice calling from the living room. "Grace, is Emmy home?"

With a frown, I tossed aside the covers and climbed out of bed.

When I walked into the living room, I found Michael standing at the door.

He looked terrible, his eyes bloodshot as if he hadn't slept at all.

Upon spotting me, he approached quickly. "Emmy."

"Stop right there," I said, raising my hand to prevent him from coming any closer. "Whatever you need to say, say it here."

Michael hesitated, glancing between me and my mom, who stood nearby, while my dad emerged from the bedroom. "Well, I'd like to talk to you alone."

"No need," I said, dropping onto the couch. "Whatever you want to say, say it here."

Michael's expression shifted. "Emmy, I realized I was wrong yesterday. Honestly, I didn't mean anything by it. I was only there to help out."

"Help out?" I scoffed. "You drove 12 miles in the opposite direction and left your wife, who's seven months pregnant, to assist a female coworker? Michael, you really are a good guy, aren't you?"

"I..."Michael struggled to find the right words. "I didn't think it through right then."

"Is that so?" I pulled out my phone and opened the transfer history. "Then how do you explain these payments?"

Holding my phone in front of him, I continued, "On September 15th, you sent Sophia eighteen 1,800 dollars. Then, on September 20th, you sent her 1,000 dollars. Both were noted as paying back.

"Michael, when did you owe her money?"

Michael's face went pale. "Th-That was for work. I advanced the money for her—"

"Advance the money?" I interrupted. "Your payroll account hasn't changed at all. All those payments came straight from your personal account.

"Michael, I'm in finance. I know exactly how you spend every penny, probably better than you do."

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out.

The living room fell deadly silent.

My dad looked at Michael coldly. "Michael, care to explain yourself?"

Michael's forehead glistened with sweat. "Harold, I—"

"Enough," my dad interrupted as he stood up and approached Michael. "My daughter is pregnant with your child. She is doing all the hard work at home as a full-time housewife, and you are out there involved with someone else?"

"No!" Michael exclaimed, panic evident in his voice. "Harold, I swear I didn't. Sophia is a coworker. Nothing is going on between her and me."

"Nothing?" I scoffed. "If so, why did you text her on WhatsApp in the middle of the night, transfer all that money to her, and share the photo of you two on Twitter?"

I stood up and approached him slowly. "Michael, do you think I am a fool?"

He stepped back. "Emmy, please, let me explain—"

"I don't want to hear any explanations," I interrupted. "Get out right now. Go home and prepare the divorce agreement."

"Divorce?" Michael's voice rose sharply. "Emily, what makes you think you can divorce me like that?"

"Because you cheated on me." I looked at him coldly. "Because you ignored me throughout my pregnancy. Because you abandoned your pregnant wife at a highway service area to pick up your mistress.

"Is that enough for you, or do you need more proof?"

Michael's face turned bright red. "What proof do you have that I cheated? The transfers and the chat logs? I can come up with a reason for those."

"Is that so?" I picked up my phone and opened a recording.

It was from the call I made to him from the café the previous night.

I hit play.

Michael's guilty voice filled the room. "Emily, don't be unreasonable," he said.

"Let's talk about our marriage and the relationship between Sophia and you." That was my voice.

Then a woman gasped in the recording.

Michael's expression shifted entirely. "Th-That doesn't prove anything."

"Is that so?" I scoffed. "See you in court."

"You—" Michael pointed a trembling finger at me. "Emily, don't push me to do this the hard way."

"I suggest you cooperate," I replied coldly. "Otherwise, when this reaches the courtroom, your reputation and career are going to take a hit."

"You are threatening me?" Michael sneered. "Alright, let's see who comes out on top."

He turned to leave.

"Wait," I called out to him.

Michael turned back, fury burning in his eyes. "What else do you want?"

I walked up to him and extended my hand. "Give me the apartment keys and the access card."

Michael froze. "What do you mean?"

"We are separating, starting today," I said calmly. "Do not show up until the baby is born."

"Emily!" he shouted, rage coursing through him. "That is my home. Who says you can kick me out?"

"My parents provided 100 thousand dollars for the down payment," I replied coldly. "We have both been paying the mortgage all these years. If you disagree, we can settle it in court."

Michael's face kept shifting between pale and red.

He pulled out his wallet and tossed the access card and keys onto the coffee table. "Fine, you're tough."

He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

*****

The door slammed shut with a loud bang.

I stood there, suddenly feeling weak all over.

My mom hurried over to support me. "Emmy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I replied, shaking my head as I sank into the couch.

My dad approached and patted my shoulder. "Good job."

Looking up at him, I asked, "Dad, did I go too far?"

"Too far?" he scoffed. "What he did was truly crossing the line.

"Right now, your priority is to protect yourself and the baby. Let the lawyer handle the rest."

I nodded.

Then my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Charlotte.

Charlotte: [I recorded everything that happened just now. You handled it perfectly. Stay strong.]

Me: [Thanks.]

Charlotte: [For the next two months, focus on your pregnancy and taking care of yourself. If anything happens, reach out to me anytime.]

Me: [Okay.]

I put my phone away and leaned back on the couch.

The baby kicked again, this time so gently, as if trying to comfort me.

I rubbed my belly and whispered, "Baby, Mommy's not going to lose.

"We're definitely going to win, no matter what."