What Grew in a Platonic Marriage

When I went with Camile McCallum to visit her parents, my mother-in-law, Marilyn Porter, pulled me aside into the kitchen and asked, in a low voice, whether I'd been keeping up with my tonic medicine lately.

I forced an awkward smile and let her eyes travel over me, top to bottom.

Marilyn let out a heavy sigh. "Then why isn't there any progress?"

Whenever she pushed us about having a baby, I always told people the problem was with me. In truth, Camile was asexual. Ten years married, and the most intimate thing we'd ever done was kiss.

A retching sound came from the bathroom.

Marilyn got there before I did, rushing to Camile's side. She stared at her, eyes bright with hope. "Are you... pregnant?"

I braced myself for the disappointing answer I was sure would come. Instead, Camile ducked her head, bashful, and nodded.

"Sean, don't just stand there, go help your wife. Are you too happy to move?"

I swallowed down my shock and kept telling myself this had to be some kind of mistake. Camile knew better than anyone that there was no way I could have gotten her pregnant.

I helped her into the bedroom. The smile on her face faded, and what she gave me instead was cold and final.

"Sean, I really am pregnant."

She held out the lab report. My hand shook as I took it. Right there in black and white: three weeks pregnant.

Three weeks, which put it right in the middle of her business trip.

I crumpled the report in my fist and looked up at her. "Camile, what have I ever done to deserve this?"

Camile stroked her stomach gently. "Sean, you've always wanted a child. Now you have one."

What I wanted was a child that belonged to the two of us, not some bastard whose father I didn't even know.

Camile didn't like the way I was frowning. Out of habit, she reached up to smooth the crease between my brows. I stepped back before she could touch me.

"Camile, was everything you told me about being asexual just a lie?"

It felt like a knife twisting in my chest. So this was what heartbreak felt like. Ten years as her husband, and she'd played me for a fool the whole time.

Camile's expression turned flat and bored, like she couldn't be bothered to explain herself.

"There's no point talking about any of that now. I'm keeping this baby. And I'm having him properly, with your name on the birth certificate. You will be this child's father."

She left me alone in the room to cool off while she called my parents to share the good news.

I unfolded the lab report again, still certain the whole thing was absurd. How had I ever believed a word out of Camile's mouth? A woman who couldn't stand to kiss me, yet was willing to carry another man's child.

Anger burned through whatever sense I had left. I stormed into the living room, ready to tell the whole family the truth.

Camile blocked my way. "Think about your mother's medical bills. Think about your sister's job."

I froze, stunned. Since when had those become bargaining chips? All these years I'd worked for her family's company without ever asking for a salary, and somehow, she still had a stranglehold on everything that mattered to me.

She grabbed my hand and held on tight, trying to talk me around. "Sean, this baby won't change how we feel about each other. Just let him into our lives, and I'll make it up to you. I'll even have another child with you, if that's what it takes."

Having a child that was truly, biologically ours had once been my dearest wish. Out of her mouth, it had become nothing more than a consolation prize.

She'd fought me on everything for years, but for this child whose father was a mystery, she was willing to break every rule she'd ever had.