She refused to explain further. I ended the appointment and arranged for another doctor to handle her care.
Only after she left did my hands begin to shake.
That evening, I went home and let Roy kiss my cheek as he asked, “Long day?”
“You have no idea.”
He’d brought dinner, but I barely touched it. He went to bed early, leaving me beside him, wondering if my marriage had been a lie.
At midnight, I slipped out of bed and took his phone. His passcode was our anniversary.
I opened his messages, expecting love notes from Tessa.
Instead, I found this:
You have until Friday to tell your mother the baby is yours. Otherwise, I’ll tell her myself. You know she’ll believe me.
My stomach dropped.
I scrolled through their conversation. Tessa kept messaging him, but Roy’s replies were cold and direct.
Stop contacting me.
