Chapter 3The Son’s Birthday

I accepted her request.

In the suffocating silence of the hospital room, her first message came through.

It was an ultrasound report. Thirteen weeks.

Doing the math, she would have conceived around the time David’s mother was in the hospital for back surgery.

He’d said he was too busy with work to help.

So I was the one who juggled taking care of a five-year-old Tim while running back and forth to the hospital.

The second message was a picture of a two-carat diamond ring.

It wasn’t massive, but it wasn't cheap, either.

The design was one David had sketched himself.

I’d found the drawing in his desk drawer right before our anniversary.

He told me it was a surprise he was designing for a friend’s proposal.

Before I could even open the third message, David finally showed up.

His clothes were disheveled, and the guilt in his eyes as he looked at me and Tim was impossible to hide.

Our parents quietly left the room, telling David to comfort our son and apologize to me properly.

David nodded and sat down, his hand hovering over Tim’s sweaty forehead. After a long silence, his voice came out, strained and heavy.

"She's pregnant."

My fingertips trembled.

"And?"

"She's so young. An abortion would be really hard on her body. I… I think she should have the baby."

For a moment, I felt like my brain just shut down. I asked, my voice hollow, "What about Tim? What about our son? What happens to him?"

David looked startled, as if the thought had never crossed his mind—or maybe it had, and he just didn't care.

"Tim is our legitimate son. Nothing will happen to him. He'll be fine."

The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, streaming down my face, washing away my makeup and revealing the broken mess underneath.

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I opened the third message from Lily.

It was a picture of a crumpled piece of paper.

I could see the hospital’s logo on the back; it looked like a blank prescription pad she’d torn off a desk.

Scrawled all over the small sheet were lists of names.

[These are the names David picked out for our baby.]

As I stared at the list, David’s anxious voice filled the silence.

"Lily said she doesn't want status or money. It’s just… when it’s time to register the baby's birth certificate, she hopes I can… temporarily divorce you…"

I let his words sink in, a roaring sound filling my ears.

In such a short time, he had already planned out their entire future.

We had been in love for ten years, married for eight.

And it was all undone by an eight-month affair.

My eyelashes fluttered, sending a chill straight to my soul.

I looked at my son, asleep in the hospital bed, his little brow furrowed in pain even in his dreams.

Then I looked at David—at his guilty, pleading, and ever-so-slightly impatient eyes.

And just like that, the storm inside me stilled.

I knew what I had to do.

I put down my phone and spoke softly. "David, we've been together for more than ten years now."

"I remember when you first asked me out. You were twenty years old, clueless about girls and romance. But you saved up for weeks to buy me a gift. That necklace was truly hideous, but it was from you."

"I remember our wedding day, how you panicked when you couldn't find my shoes, terrified you wouldn't be able to marry me."

"And when I was pregnant, you never missed a single doctor's appointment. When my feet swelled up so badly I couldn't sleep, you’d get up without complaint, comforting me, massaging my legs, telling me you would only ever love me…"

I paused, my gaze fixed on him. "David, tell me. Do you still love me?"

He couldn't, could he?

Otherwise, how could he have shattered our family so completely on our son's birthday?

His eyes reddened. His lips parted, then closed, over and over again.

Finally, only three words came out.

"We're family."

Family. Like a blow to the head.

It shocked me out of my memories and back into this cold, sterile reality.

I didn't say another word. I told him to leave the room.

Then I texted my best friend.

"Help me find a lawyer. I want a divorce."