Then, four days before our attorneys were supposed to finalize the separation paperwork, I took a pregnancy test.
Positive.
I took another.
Positive.
The doctor confirmed it.
I called Adrian.
For one second there was silence.
Then he said:
“Claire, don’t do this.”
I remember gripping the kitchen counter.
“Do what?”
“You know.”
“No.”
“I really don’t.”
“Use a pregnancy to stop this.”
I thought I had misunderstood.
“Adrian, I’m pregnant.”
“You’ve known I wanted out for weeks.”
“That has nothing to do with whether I’m pregnant.”
“You expect me to believe the timing?”
“Yes.”
“Because it’s true.”
I offered medical records.
He refused.
I asked him to attend an appointment.
He called that manipulation.
A week later I had the first detailed ultrasound.
The technician went unusually quiet.
Then called another person into the room.
I thought something was wrong.
Something was unusual.
