Chapter 4
I opened Adam's cloud gallery and saved every single photo to my phone.
Then I logged into his email.
I knew his password. It was my birthday.
There were a bunch of work emails, nothing special.
I clicked on "Sent."
After scrolling through a few pages, I found one addressed to Theresa.
The subject line read: [Babe, weekend plans.]
The message was short and sweet: [I'll go with you to your prenatal check-up on Saturday. How about we check out the nursery on Sunday?]
The date was last Friday.
Prenatal check-up?
Nursery?
I froze.
Theresa was pregnant?
I kept scrolling.
I found another email from a month ago.
The subject line said: [About the baby.]
The message read: [Babe, don't worry. I'll take care of everything. Once I'm done dealing with her, we can finally be together—out in the open.]
Her?
That was me, wasn't it?
What did "once I'm done dealing with her" even mean?
Was he talking about divorce?
I kept scrolling.
I found an email from two months ago.
It read: [Babe, I'm so happy you're pregnant. I really want this baby.]
Two months ago.
Theresa had already been pregnant for two months then.
Now, another month had gone by.
Theresa had been pregnant for three months now.
When I was in the hospital, she was already three months pregnant.
She was getting prenatal check-ups, carrying his baby, while I was there losing mine.
Adam chose to be with her, not with me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, almost dropping my phone.
That scene outside the hospital flashed through my mind again.
Adam was holding Theresa's hand, both of them laughing and joking around like nothing else mattered.
Theresa was snuggled up against his shoulder, acting all cute and clingy.
Back then, I had no clue she was carrying his baby.
There was once a baby growing inside me, too.
But I lost mine.
He never got to meet his dad.
I buried my face in the pillow.
Finally, the tears came.
Not because I felt sorry for myself.
Because it was all so absurd.
I spent eight days in that hospital bed, hoping Adam would come every single day.
He said he was busy, so I kept waiting.
He said he'd be back soon, and I kept believing him.
But while I was lying there, he was out with her—taking her to prenatal check-ups, helping her choose a crib.
Her baby was already three months along.
Mine? I lost mine four days ago.
I wanted to ask him, "What kind of man does this to his wife?"
But what was the point?
He'd just come up with excuses like, "I couldn't help it," "It's complicated," or "Let's talk."
It changed nothing at all.
I wiped away my tears and sat up.
Enough crying. Time to act.
I gathered all the photos, emails, and chat logs, and saved them in a single folder.
Then I called my college friend, Elaine Wallace.
She's a lawyer.
"Hey, Keira. It's been a while. What's up?" she answered.
"I want a divorce," I said, my voice calm and unwavering.
There was a beat of silence on the other end.
"What happened?" Elaine asked.
"Adam cheated on me. With Theresa. She's three months pregnant," I said, my voice cold and steady.
"Wait. Theresa? That Theresa?" Elaine blurted out, disbelief in her voice.
"Yeah, her," I replied flatly.
"Holy shit," she blurted out.
She paused for a few seconds.
"Do you have any proof?" she asked.
"Yeah. I've got photos, emails, chat logs—everything," I replied.
"Alright. Send everything over. I'll take a look," she said.
"Okay," I replied.
After hanging up, I sent her the folder.
Then I opened my phone's notes app and started a list.
I wrote: [1. Apartment. Bought before marriage. My parents covered the down payment, and I've been paying off the mortgage ever since.]
[2. Car. That belongs to Adam. He had it before we got married.]
[3. Savings. I've got 40,000 dollars in my account. No clue how much he's got.]
[4. Wedding gift money. 30,000 dollars. My mom kept it. I never saw any of it.]
[5. Stuff we bought together after getting married. Appliances, furniture. Maybe 15,000 dollars in total, if that.]
The apartment was the biggest asset.
If I could keep that, nothing else mattered.
Elaine replied quickly: [The evidence is solid. Clear proof of infidelity, so you can ask for compensation in the divorce. The apartment was yours before marriage, so that's protected.]
I let out a sigh of relief.
Just as I was about to reply, my phone rang.
It was Adam.
After a moment's hesitation, I picked up.
"Honey, where are you? I've been looking for you all night," he said.
"At a hotel," I replied.
"Which one? I'll come over," he said.
"Don't," I said.
"Listen, babe. I can explain what happened that day..." he pleaded.
"Don't bother," I replied.
He froze for a second, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"
"I know," I said.
"Know what?" he asked.
I paused for a moment.
"Theresa's pregnant. Three months along," I said.
There was a long silence on the other end.
I pressed on. "You two have been together since before we even got together, haven't you?"
He stayed silent.
"You went with her to her prenatal checkups. You didn't come see me. Right?" I pressed.
"Honey, just listen to me..." he pleaded.
"I told you. No need to explain," I said, my voice calm.
"Adam, I want a divorce," I said.