Chapter 1: The other Woman

Karen POV

I left the doctor’s office with the paper folded between my fingers and a smile I couldn’t control.

Pregnant.

The word echoed in my mind like a precious secret, too fragile to be spoken out loud just yet. I got into the car, closed the door with exaggerated care, and rested my forehead against the steering wheel, taking a deep breath.

“You did it, Karen,” I murmured to myself. “We did it.”

For the first time in a long while, something in the world felt like it finally made sense.

Harvey would be happy. I was sure of it. He wasn’t an expressive man—he never had been. But I knew him. I knew the long silences, the lingering looks whenever he saw a baby, the way he grew unusually quiet when a friend announced a pregnancy.

I picked up my phone to call him.

My fingers hovered over the screen.

“He wouldn’t answer anyway,” I whispered, smiling to myself. “This isn’t something you say over the phone.”

I wanted to see his face. I wanted the good shock. That second of disbelief before he regained control. Maybe he’d say something practical, maybe he’d pretend to stay calm. Maybe later, when we were alone, he’d pull me into a tight embrace.

I smiled just imagining it.

On the way home, I stopped by the market. I walked through the aisles with a strange lightness in my body, as if my feet barely touched the ground. I picked the specific wine he liked. The imported cheese. The dark chocolate he claimed to hate but always finished by the end of the night, pretending indifference.

I passed by the baby section without realizing it… until I did.

My hands trembled when I touched a pair of tiny socks. So small they barely seemed real.

“Later,” I promised myself, swallowing hard. “One step at a time.”

I arrived home with my heart light, almost pulsing with happiness.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Monroe,” the housekeeper said as soon as I walked in.

“Good afternoon,” I replied. “Has Harvey arrived?”

She hesitated for a second too long.

“He’s… home, yes.”

Something shifted inside me.

“Where is he?”

“On the balcony.”

I frowned slightly.

Harvey never stayed on the balcony at that hour.

I went upstairs slowly, calling out as I walked.

“Harvey? Honey?”

No answer.

I passed the hallway, the office, the bedroom, the bathroom. Nothing. The closer I got to the balcony, the more a strange smell filled the air.

My stomach tightened.

Smoke.

I stopped just short of stepping fully outside. My heart raced, confused.

“Who’s smoking?” I thought.

Harvey never smoked at home. Never. Not since the beginning of our marriage. Since the day I said, half joking, “I hate the smell of cigarettes.”

And he replied, without hesitation: “Then I won’t smell like that.”

I stepped closer.

He was there.

With his back to me.

A cigarette between his fingers. Smoke leaving his mouth slowly, as if the habit had always been part of him.

“Harvey?” I called, my voice lower than I expected.

He didn’t turn around right away.

“You got home early,” he said, without emotion.

My smile tried to survive. “I went to the doctor.”

He brought the cigarette to his mouth again.

I frowned, unable to hide my discomfort. “You’re smoking?”

“I am.”

“Why?” My voice came out thin. “After almost three years together, you’ve never done this. You know I don’t like it.”

Silence.

I moved closer, still trying to keep the excitement alive inside me. “I called you,” I said quickly. “Several times. I thought you were busy.”

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray with a sharp motion.

“Karen.”

The tone.

My smile faltered.

“I was so excited,” I went on, words tumbling over each other. “I thought about you the whole time. I bought—”

“You should leave.”

The world stopped.

“What?” I asked, laughing without humor. “Leave where?”

He finally turned to face me.

His gaze wasn’t the one that kissed me before leaving the house. It wasn’t the husband who shared a bed with me. It was cold. Calculated. Distant.

“Karen, don’t make this harder.”

My heart started beating wrong. “Harder? Harvey, I just came back from the doctor. I—”

“Karen,” he interrupted. “I need to tell you something.”

My heart raced. “I need to tell you something too,” I said quickly, still trying to smile. “But you go first.”

He looked away, as if he were already tired of the conversation before it even began.

“Maggie is back.”

The name fell like something too heavy to ignore.

I swallowed hard, but nodded. “I saw the news.”

“Maggie is pregnant.”

The air left my lungs.

“Oh…” my voice faltered, but I forced myself to steady it. “I… I didn’t know.”

He said nothing.

I looked at him carefully, searching for some sign of conflict. “Well… that’s important.” I forced a weak smile. “Congratulations to her.”

He stared at me, far too serious.

“Karen, you’re not understanding.”

I frowned. “Understanding what?”

He took a step toward me, but there was no affection in the gesture. “The baby is mine.”

The world stopped for good.

“What?”

“Maggie is pregnant with my child.”

My legs went weak.

“No…” I whispered. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does.”

“You… you were together?” My voice trembled. “When?”

He ran a hand over his face, impatient. “I never stopped being connected to her.”

My chest tightened. “So you cheated on me.”

He didn’t deny it.

“How long?” I asked.

“Always.”

The answer was cold. Cruel. Final.

“Always?” I repeated, stunned.

“I was clear from the beginning,” he continued, his tone unchanged. “I told you who Maggie was. I told you she was my first love. And the only one.”

Each word cut me open.

“You said the past was in the past,” I shot back, feeling the tears burn.

“I said she wasn’t here,” he replied. “I never said I stopped loving her.”

The silence between us became unbearable.

“So what was I?” I asked quietly. “A mistake?”

“You were convenient,” he said. “And you always knew that.”

The ground vanished beneath me.

“And you bring me here… for this?” I asked, my voice breaking. “After everything?”

“Karen, you should go.”

It took me a few seconds to understand.

“Go… where?”

He pointed toward the hallway, indifferent. “The exit is right there. I’ve already arranged everything—it’s up to you whether you want to leave today or tomorrow.”

I looked around, incredulous. “You’re throwing me out?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that?” My voice rose. “No conversation? No explanation?”

“There’s nothing left to explain.”

“I stood by you through everything,” I said softly. “When no one else did.”

He looked at me coldly. “And I never asked you to.”

The tears finally fell.

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” he said. “Financially.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “With money?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re going to build a family with her,” I went on, my stomach churning. “And I… what am I?”

“Nothing that needs to stay here.”