Nine Months Pregnant, I Left My Husband Novels & Stories

"Very well, Evelyn. Once we get Alexander's signature, we just have to wait for the court's mandatory waiting period to pass before the decree is final." I hung up, staring at the soapy sponge in my hand. It was ridiculous to end my two-decade-long marriage during my counter cleaning. Meanwhile, on the massive 85-inch flat-screen in the living room, a prime-time business channel was airing an interview with the "Entrepreneur of the Year."

The nurse blinked. “I’m sorry?” “I said no.” This time my voice was firmer. “I don’t want to see him.” She hesitated, clearly caught off guard. “But he insists he’s your husband.” A bitter smile tugged at my lips. “Husband?” I almost laughed. “What kind of husband ignores his wife while she’s screaming in pain?” The nurse fell silent. “What kind of husband tells his wife there’s no money for her medication…” “…then buys another woman a mansion?”

I know my husband. And once he’s made up his mind, there’s no room for negotiation. "Thanks for telling me," I say softly. And with that, I leave the study. As I touch my stomach, I realize that–for both me and my unborn child–we’ll only have three months left with Evander. Maybe less. The thought of it is enough to send fresh pangs of agony through my heart. But we don’t have another choice. I just need to hide my pregnancy well, until my child and I have to leave.

Jack eyed her in disbelief. "Because you don't want me to stay in your place pregnant with another man's baby. It's the only setup that will work for all of us. Don't worry, we will text and call each other. Our communication will continue even if we are living in two different places. I just want you to wait for nine months until I give birth to my baby. After that, we will get married and never be separated from each other again. Please accept this set-up!" She pleaded, begging for his cooperation.

It had been so long, and all I wanted was to feel him inside me, but I didn’t want to rush things. “Mm-hmm,” I nodded. “It’s almost nine months since we’ve been together, and part of the contract says I need to give you an heir. So if I got pregnant now, after nine months, I’d give birth, take care of the child for six months, then drop the child with you and go my way.” I paused, looking away. "My mom would be fine, you'd have an heir, everyone would be happy… and we'd go our separate ways."

At some point, I started feeling pity for her and wondered what she was going through, but I didn't dare to ask, because I knew what the outcome would be; she would snap at me and tell me to stay out of her business. And for the past few weeks, Raj had been very helpful and loving towards me, since I was now ten weeks pregnant. When we got into little arguments, he always allowed me get my way, but what he Never agreed to was for us to leave the house and move to a separate one. He didn't like the idea at all.

She swallowed the rest of the scotch in one go, as if she needed it to keep herself together. “You know you’re not supposed to be drinking,” I added, my eyes dropping briefly to her stomach. “It’s bad for the baby.” That did it. She finally turned to look at me. “And when did you start to care?” she asked coldly. I shrugged. “I don’t,” I said honestly. “But you’re carrying my husband’s child. So whether you like it or not, you need to take care of yourself.” I turned toward the door, done with the conversation. Done with her attitude. Done with pretending this situation wasn’t completely twisted.

Even though we had married and divorced nine times like a game, I was still the ex-wife. The night grew quiet. The wind outside howled, as if carrying my words far away. After a long silence, Jake lifted his head, attempting an explanation. "Divorcing you… It was my fault. But I couldn't let Carla bear the shame of being involved with a married man." I took a few irritated steps back, unable—and unwilling—to understand. Carla couldn't bear the blame, so that meant I deserved to be divorced nine times?

3 years of marriage, yet no child every couple would be happy to hear that sentence that bonds the existence of marriage, not in my case. I watched my husband leave home and come back once in two weeks and sometimes once in a month, my marriage was shattered and there was nothing I could do to save it. “No,” I said, too sharp, too defensive. “Impossible” She threw the result papers at me. "VALDEZ, ARIA. RESULT: POSITIVE. ESTIMATED GESTATION: 3 WEEKS." I read. 3 weeks...it dawned on me... Zachary, my stepfatherinlaw, I thought he used protection, how could I still have gotten pregnant?

Her hands unconsciously reached to touch her heavily protruding stomach, she was just into her ninth month of pregnancy and according to the doctors would be due in three weeks. Would things get easier or would it get more difficult? It had been tough and complicated trying to put the piece of her life together after her divorce seven years ago. She had never realized how solely dependent on him she had been. She often thought about him. The memories were still fresh but at times felt like some distant far away dream. She had had to move outside of town with her mom and brother to get a job, deep down, she knew the main reason was to reduce the risk of ever bumping into him.