“I’ll schedule you in. You’ll get a text with the confirmed date and time, Maddie,” Tara said.
I’d thought Lucas was safe.
That week, my life shrank fast.
At work, Claire, the principal, closed her office door and rubbed her forehead.
“Maddie, I don’t want to get involved.”
“Then don’t.”
“Lucas’s mother called my sister. People are already talking.”
“But I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I believe you,” Claire said too quickly. “But parents are already whispering, Maddie. I hate it, but it’s becoming a distraction.”
“Maddie, I don’t want to get involved.”
“So I’m being punished for a rumor?”
“Maddie, I know. Just give things room to settle. Take a few days.”
“Am I being fired?”
“No. Just have some breathing room. Plan for your baby.”
Breathing room meant unpaid days and pitying looks.
That afternoon, the landlord for the house on Briar Lane called me.
Lucas and I had been trying to view it for weeks. All I could think about was a dry nursery with morning light.
“I’m being punished for a rumor?”
“Maddie?” the landlord said. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m canceling tomorrow’s showing.”
My hand tightened around the phone. “Did someone already take it?”
“No. Your husband called. He said there’s some instability right now.”
I closed my eyes. “He said that?”
“He said you two were separating and that you might not be in a position to move.”
I swallowed hard. “I was the one who found that house.”
“I understand,” he said. “But I don’t want to step into a domestic situation.”
“Did someone already take it?”
After he hung up, I stood in the hallway of our damp little rental and stared at the room I’d already imagined as a nursery.
Lucas hadn’t only left me. He was blocking every door I tried to open.
On the sixth day, Charlotte posted a photo.
Lucas sat across from her at a rooftop restaurant. Her caption read:”Peace looks different after the truth.”
I stared until my screen dimmed.
Then I wiped my face and started planning.
I stared until my screen dimmed.
I saved Lucas’s texts, Sandra’s message, and Charlotte’s post. I printed the appointment confirmation and put everything in a folder.
Then I texted Lucas:
“Come to the ultrasound tomorrow. Bring whoever you need. I want the facts said in front of everyone.”
He replied three minutes later.
“Fine. I want to discuss divorce anyway.”
“Come to the ultrasound tomorrow.”
The next morning, I wore the blue sweater Lucas once said made my eyes look bright. Halfway through brushing my hair, I hated myself for choosing it.
At the medical center, Lucas was already in the waiting room.
Charlotte sat beside him, her hand on his knee. A thick folder sat between them.
“Maddie, finally,” Lucas said.
Not, “Are you okay?”
Charlotte smiled carefully. “This will be easier if you stop pretending.”
I looked at her. “You came to my ultrasound to say that?”
I hated myself for choosing it.
“I came because Lucas deserves support and peace.”
I placed my folder on my lap. “Then let’s go see what peace costs.”
Lucas opened his folder. “I want a quick divorce. After the birth, I want a DNA test.”
“You can ask for one legally.”
“And I want this signed.” He slid papers toward me. “If the baby isn’t mine, you repay pregnancy-related expenses.”
I read the clause.
“Medical bills. Housing support. Attorney fees.”‘
“I want a quick divorce.”
“You brought another woman to my baby’s first appointment and handed me a bill for being pregnant,” I said. “You’re a piece of work, Lucas.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
I folded the papers and set them back on his folder. “I’m not signing anything.”
Tara called my name.
Lucas stood. Charlotte followed.
Tara looked at me. “Ma’am, are you sure you want everyone in the room?”
Lucas said, “I’m her husband.”
“You’re a piece of work, Lucas.”
I looked right at the nurse. “Yes. Let them in.”
Dr. Monroe greeted me, then glanced cautiously at Lucas and Charlotte.
“All right, Maddie,” she said. “Let’s take a look.”
I lay back, twisting my wedding ring until it hurt.
At first, the screen was nothing but shadows.
Then the sound filled the room.
Fast, strong, and real. My baby.
I lay back, twisting my wedding ring.
“Is the baby okay?” I whispered.
Dr. Monroe smiled. “Your baby looks healthy.”
Healthy.
Then Dr. Monroe grew quiet. She measured something on the screen, clicked, and measured again.
“Maddie,” she said. “You mentioned on the phone that your husband had a vasectomy. When?”
Lucas sat up. “Two months ago. Why does that matter?”
Dr. Monroe looked at him. “Had you been cleared afterward? Did you have a semen analysis confirming no sperm?”
“Your baby looks healthy.”
Lucas’s mouth opened.
Charlotte’s hand dropped from his shoulder.
“I had the procedure,” he said. “That means I couldn’t…”
“No,” Dr. Monroe said gently. “That’s not what that means.”