Chapter 5: Undeniable

The new password on his laptop now. How he'd started taking calls outside, on the balcony, claiming it was work but speaking in that low, intimate tone I recognized.

I noticed him smelling like unfamiliar perfume again.

I noticed everything and said nothing, because what was the point?

He was lying. I knew he was lying He knew I knew.

But acknowledging it would mean making a choice. And I wasn't ready for that choice.

Not when I was thirteen weeks pregnant and already showing. Not when I'd just scheduled my twenty-week anatomy scan. Not when I'd finally told my parents we were going to be grandparents and heard the joy in their voices.

So I played my role. The mother-to-be planning a nursery. The woman who pretended her marriage wasn't dying while her baby grew.

One night, I was folding laundry in our bedroom when Marcus came up behind me, hands sliding around my waist, resting on my small but visible bump.

"Hey, beautiful," he murmured against my neck.

I stiffened. I couldn't help it.

"What's wrong?" he asked, though his hands were already moving higher, under my shirt.

"Nothing. I'm just tired."

"You're always tired lately." His tone held an edge of frustration. "The doctor said sex is safe, right?"

Safe. Not do you want to Not I miss being close to you.

Just it's safe, right?

"Marcus, I don't"

"Come on, babe. It's been two weeks." His hands cupped my breasts now, and I felt nothing No desire. No connection. "I miss you."

You miss having sex whenever you want.

But I didn't say it.

Because good wives didn't refuse their husbands. Because I was supposed to be grateful he was home, that he was here instead of at a hotel with Kelly if he'd even really ended it.

So I let him turn me around. Let him kiss me with lips that had probably kissed someone else earlier. Let him undress me with hands that knew another woman's body better than they knew hers anymore.

He led me to bed, and I went.

He pushed inside me without much preparation, and I bit back a gasp of discomfort. My body, round and foreign to me now, wasn't ready for his impatient entry

"You okay?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer, didn't slow down. He just started moving, a steady, selfish rhythm that had nothing to do with me. I stared at the ceiling, one hand protectively on my stomach, feeling my baby move tiny flutters that the books said I should cherish while my husband used my body like it was his right. His eyes were closed. His mind somewhere else. Someone else. I knew. Even as he moved above me, I knew he was thinking of Kelly.

When he finished, he rolled off with a satisfied sigh and immediately reached for his phone on the nightstand.

The blue light illuminated his face. He smiled at something. Typed quickly, the kind of rapid-fire messaging that spoke of familiarity, of inside jokes, of intimacy.

I lay beside him, feeling used and empty my hand still resting on the baby 

"That was nice," Marcus murmured absently, still typing.

Nice.

I wanted to scream. Wanted to grab his phone and throw it against the wall. Wanted to demand he see me, really see me, for just five seconds.

Instead, I got up carefully my body was sore, and not in a good way grabbed my robe, and walked to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" he called after me.

"Shower."

"You just took one this morning."

"I need another one."

I locked the bathroom door and turned on the shower as hot as I could stand. Stood under the spray and tried to wash away the feeling of being a placeholder.  A womb carrying his child while he satisfied his desires elsewhere.

The water mixed with my tears and I pressed my hand to my stomach.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to my baby. "I'm so sorry."

Sorry for bringing you into this. Sorry for not being brave enough to leave.

Sorry for loving a man who would never love me back the way I needed.

When I emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, skin raw and eyes red, Marcus was asleep. His phone was clutched loosely in his hand, screen still glowing. I could look. Could confirm what I already knew. Could see the messages from Kelly that probably said things like miss you and can't wait to see you tomorrow.

But I was too tired. Too pregnant to care anymore.

I climbed into bed on my side when had we started having sides? and curled protectively around my bump.

"It's okay," I whispered to my baby. "Mommy's here. I've got you."

The next morning, I woke to an empty bed Again.

A Post-it note on his pillow: Early meeting Love you.

The same note he'd left a hundred times before.

I crumpled it and threw it across the room.

Then I got up, made myself breakfast I couldn't taste, and got ready for work, moving through my morning routine like a ghost.

In the mirror, I barely recognized myself. Dark circles under my eyes. Skin pale. A sadness that had settled into my bones.

But my stomach was growing. Rounding 

Undeniable now.

I placed both hands on my bump and felt a flutter of movement.

"I'm going to be better," I promised. "I'm going to figure this out For you."

I just didn't know how yet.