GOOD NEWS CRASHED

The doctor’s voice still echoed in my head.

“Miss Jenny Williams, congratulations. You are two weeks pregnant.”

“ I'm sure doctor Williams will be so happy” The doctor had said, as he was talking about my husband,James Williams.

Those words had replayed in my mind over and over again since morning. I could still see the gentle smile on the doctor’s face, still feel the warmth in my chest when I heard the news. I had not been feeling well earlier today, so I decided to go to the hospital, thinking it was just stress or exhaustion. I never imagined I would walk out with the happiest news of my life.

I was pregnant.

I could not wait to get home. I wanted to see James’ face when I told him. I imagined his surprise, his smile, the way he would pull me into his arms. For three years, I had been his wife. This baby felt like a blessing, like something that would finally make us complete.

As my car drove into the driveway, my happiness faltered slightly. There was another car parked there.

I slowed down, staring at it. It looked familiar. Very familiar.

Maybe James had friends over, I thought. He sometimes invited them without telling me. I stepped out of the car and walked toward the door, still holding the pregnancy test paper tightly in my hand. My heart was still full of excitement, despite the strange unease creeping in.

I reached for the doorknob.

Then I stopped.

Voices.

Laughter.

Men’s voices.

I leaned closer, not meaning to eavesdrop, but the words drifted clearly through the door.

“So… Vanessa is coming back?”

My entire body froze.

Vanessa?

My breath caught in my throat.

Of course I knew that name. How could I not? Vanessa was one of our classmates back in college. She was James’ ex-girlfriend, infact the woman he wanted to spend his life with. His first love. His everything . But she was woman who left him and traveled abroad, leaving him broken.

Why were they talking about her now, is she really back?

“She’s coming back today,I heard ,” James said calmly.

That was his voice. My husband’s voice.

“So what are you going to do?” another of his friend asked. “With that look in your eyes, I know you still love her.”

I felt my fingers tighten around the paper in my hand. My heart began to pound violently as I waited for James to respond. Part of me prayed he would laugh it off. Another part of me already feared the answer, like as if I already knew what he would say.

“Yes, I do,” James replied immediately.

My heart shattered.

The sound was not loud, but I felt it. A sharp, painful crack deep inside my chest.

“Whoa, man. You do?” the man exclaimed. “What about Jenny? Your wife?”

James sighed. “I know, I know. I’m just conflicted right now. Jenny is kind. She’s obedient. She doesn’t question me at all.”

Each word felt like a knife.

Kind. Obedient.

That was all I was to him?

“But Vanessa is different,” James continued. “She’s bold. She loves taking the lead. And that’s what I love about her.”

I pressed my hand against my mouth, afraid I might make a sound. My vision blurred, but I forced myself to stay still.

“James, someone like Vanessa wouldn’t want to be a mistress,” one of the men said. “You know that, right?”

I recognized that voice. Victor. One of James’ closest friends.

I peeked through the small opening and saw James lifting a bottle of whiskey, choking it down like it could drown his thoughts.

“I know,” James said hoarsely. “That’s why I have to think.”

Victor laughed. “Good luck with that, bro. Maybe you could handle two women at the same time.”

The men burst into laughter.

“Although the public knows you’re married to Jenny,” Victor added. “You don’t want a scandal following you, right? You’re a doctor. A renowned doctor. Dr. James Williams involved with another woman?”

They laughed again, like it was nothing more than a joke.

I stood there, frozen, clutching the pregnancy test paper in my trembling hands.

So that was it.

That was all James saw me as.

An obedient wife.

Nothing more.

Memories flooded my mind painfully. Three years ago, after Vanessa left him, James had nearly destroyed himself. He drank endlessly. He barely slept. He looked empty, broken. I was there for him every day, quietly, patiently.

Until that one night.

He was drunk. We made a mistake. We slept together.

I remembered how serious he looked the next morning. How he said he was a man of principle. How he told me he would not take advantage of me and pretend nothing happened.

So he married me.

Back then, I thought it was fate. I had admired him since college. I believed I was lucky. My friends warned me, but I ignored them. I thought love would be enough.

Two years later after our marriage, he built his hospital. His company flourished. James became a very well-known doctor across the city. Everyone knew his name. And I was his wife.

At reunions, people looked at us with admiration. Some with jealousy. They whispered about how lucky I was, how perfect we looked together.

But now, standing outside my own home, listening to my husband talk about another woman, I felt the pain sink deep into my bones.

I could not stand there any longer.

If I stayed one more minute, I knew I would lose control. I would cry. I would scream. I would break.

So I turned around and ran.

I ran out of the house, tears blurring my vision, my chest tight with pain. My hands clutched the pregnancy paper as if it were the only thing keeping me standing.

I was pregnant.

And my husband was in love with someone else.