The Baby Wasn't Mine

Synopsis

The door wasn't locked. I stood outside my own place, suitcase in hand, hadn't even pulled out my keys yet. The door was just cracked open. The living room light was on. Half a glass of water sat on the coffee table, with milky residue clinging to the rim. I'd been away on a business trip for three months. The place should've been empty. Then a cry came from the master bedroom. A baby's cry. I don't have a kid. The crying stopped for a second, then a woman's voice started up, soft and soothing. "Shh, shh, don't cry. Daddy will be home soon." Daddy. I set my suitcase down. The wheels hit the doorframe with a thud. The woman's voice went silent.