He told me he loved me on our second date. Said he was leaving his wife of fifteen years, that he’d been dead inside for years and finally felt seen. I wanted to believe him, and I did. I’m pregnant now. That part is simple and true.
Last night the phone rang and nothing felt simple anymore.
Her voice was calm in a way that made everything in me go still. “I’m Nalini,” she said. “His wife.” She didn’t spit the word like a weapon. She said it like a fact you can’t argue with. Then she asked, “Do you love him, or did he just make you feel seen?”
I stared at the wall and clutched my phone like it could keep me from falling. I told her yes, I’m pregnant. My voice cracked. She said, quietly, “So was I. Last year.”
She told me she lost the baby in the second trimester. That he didn’t come to the hospital. “He said he was t work,” she added, and the way she said it told me everything. The late nights. The sudden gym obsession. The distance. All the usual signs we pretend not to know.
Be First to Comment