Chapter 1: Congratulations. Mrs Walker

Isabelle's POV

“Congratulations, Mrs Walker. You're four weeks pregnant”. The nurse stretched out a paper to me. The corners of her lips rising into a warm smile.

Pregnant. The word echoed in my ears until my eyes filled with tears. The clear writing on the paper before me turned into a blurry mess of ink.

“Are you…sure?” My fingers trembled.

I needed to hear it again.

I needed to be convinced that I wasn't dreaming.

“Yes”. She chuckled.

“The blood test confirmed it. The IVF was successful”.

I closed my eyes, letting tears run freely down my cheeks.

I had imagined hearing those words so many times that I'd lost count of it. But now that they were actually being said, I couldn't seem to find my words.

“Thank you”. My fingers trembled as I took it from her.

“You're welcome. But I want to remind you to not be careless. You're still at an early stage. So the pregnancy is not stable yet. Added to your condition, your body is at risk”.

“Yes. I understand perfectly”. I nodded.

“Your husband will be so happy. I wish you a safe pregnancy, Mrs Walker”. She patted my shoulder gently.

Happy? Ryan would be more than estatic.

Our whole lives we've always wanted a child. Our sex life was…. complicated. Going through IVFs was the best option.

For three years, I'd watched the hope in his eyes slowly disappear every time another attempt failed.

And after three years of consistently trying, we finally had a little life to call our own.

The doctor handed me several medications, warning me over and over again to be careful.

I listened to every word. Taking notes avoiding to make any mistakes.

I walked out of the hospital, unable to hide my smile.

I was thinking of a way to surprise Ryan.

Maybe I should cook dinner. Nothing extravagant. Just warm. A little feast to celebrate.

I went to the grocery store.

As I bought, I kept imagining it countless times.

Him surprised, asking me what special occasion we had today, only for me to pull out the report after the meal, sliding it across the table and watch the change in his expression.

Three years of waiting had finally been worth it.

But I couldn't contain my excitement for that long.

I took out my phone and sent a message.

“I have a surprise for you tonight. When will you be back?”

I stared at it for a full minute before hitting send.

On my way home, I kept glancing at my screen. No response.

I tried not to let it bother me. He was probably busy with work.

My phone buzzed. I smiled, thinking it was him. Instead, the name Chloe appeared on my screen.

My best friend of nine years.

She has been beside me through every failed IVF appointment, every negative test, and every night I'd cried myself to sleep afterward.

I answered immediately.

“Girl. How is it this time? What did the doctor say?” Her voice came through, filled with anticipation.

“What do you think?” I teased. Trying to hold back my emotions.

She went quiet. I could practically picture her frowning, trying to guess what I meant.

“Listen, Isabelle. Even though it is the same result as before, we can keep trying. I know you can do it. You…”

“I’m pregnant”. I cut her off before she could finish.

“What? You're pregnant?” She screamed so loudly that I pulled the phone away from my ear.

“Yes. Four weeks. You're going to be the godmother you've always dreamt of becoming”.

“Let’s celebrate with a few drinks tonight. Bills on me”. She giggled.

“Sorry, but I can't. That won't be good for my baby”. I rubbed my still flat belly.

“My bad. Then I'll take you shopping for baby clothes tomorrow”.

“Fine”.

We stayed on the phone for a few more minutes, talking about names and everything she planned to buy before I finally promised to call her later.

I came down in front of the apartment.

The door was open which meant Ryan was home.

He'd usually stay glued to his screen at home so why wasn't he responding?

I pushed the half opened door further.

The smile on my face disappeared.

The ground started to sway beneath my feet.

Right on the couch, Ryan, my husband, was on all fours. A man was r*mming into him from behind with a relentless force that made the couch lurch.

I stood frozen, thinking I was hallucinating. But the cold steel of the door knob against my palm was a confirmation that I wasn't.

They were so engrossed that they didn't even know someone was standing a few feet away from them.

And the person behind Ryan wasn't just anyone.

It was the same man who had cried the day he slipped the ring onto my finger, hugging and teasing him to be the luckiest bastard alive to have married a woman like me.

His best friend, Evan.

My husband was gay.

I stood there, jaw slacked. The realization nearly sent me to my knees.

“Man…you're such a beast”. Evan groaned, slowing his pace. “What? Don't that silly wife of yours please you like this?”

“Don’t bring her up. It ruins the mood”. Ryan said between breathy mo*ns.

“She's such a pain. Always fussing about wanting a kid but still has not gotten pregnant. I'm tired”.

My chest twisted with a dull, aching pain. Three years of marriage, IVFs and desperation was reduced into this in the blink of an eye.

“Why not try with her once?” Evan teased. “There's no time. We can't keep hiding like this. We have to keep up fast with the plan”.

What plan? I frowned. Trying to understand what they were talking about.

“Do you think I can get it up with her? Man, she's so plain and boring. Aside from that, she doesn't know I'm not straight”.

“Imagine what her face would look like after discovering this”. Evan chuckled.

“She won't. Trust me. She's too focused on giving me a child to notice anything”.

“So you'd rather be with me on the couch she picked on your anniversary?” Evan’s words were followed with a breathy laugh that filled the space.

“Gladly”. Ryan said without remorse. Pushing himself backward to meet every move.

Something wasn't adding up. Ryan could actually get it up perfectly?

He said his fertility issues made it difficult for him to have s*x normally. So we never did.

Without me knowing that all along, he was…gay.

My fingers trembled violently. The grocery bag in my hand fell, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

Not loud. But enough to make them pause and turn to the door.