Chapter 7: The Other Woman’s Smile

At noon the next day, I visited my dad’s hospital room during my break and ran into Mr. Whitaker from the publishing house.

He stood in the hallway, shuffling papers, looking tired. I forced a smile, greeting him.

He was in his forties, a little balding, and also one of my dad’s former students.

He’d always been kind to me, bringing homemade cookies at Christmas, asking about my work.

These days, my dad was rarely lucid.

The cancer had stolen so much from him—his strength, his sharp wit. But he still had moments of clarity.

But even with an oxygen tube, struggling to speak, he insisted on holding Mr. Whitaker’s hand, asking him to look after Nathaniel’s book.

His voice was weak, but his grip was strong. “Promise me you’ll help him, Sam. He deserves a chance.”

Nathaniel came from a modest background but always worked hard to prove himself.

My dad admired that about him. He wanted to see Nathaniel succeed, to know his efforts hadn’t been in vain.

Publishing a book would put him on the map.

It was Nathaniel’s dream—tenure, respect, a legacy. My dad wanted that for him.

So he asked about it constantly.

He’d ask about it every visit, his eyes brightening at any news.

After I saw Mr. Whitaker out, he comforted me: “Emily, you’re pregnant now, you should take it easy. Don’t let things get to you.”

He patted my shoulder, his eyes kind. “If you ever need anything—a break, a coffee, someone to talk to—just call.”

“If you need anything, just let me know.”

He squeezed my hand, lingering for a moment before heading down the hall.

I smiled and nodded.

I put on my best brave face, hiding the storm inside.

“Mr. Whitaker, I know Nathaniel’s book has put you in a bind. My dad’s your mentor, but the draft isn’t up to par, and that puts you in a tough spot at the press.”

I spoke quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear. “You’ve done more than enough, really.”

“So you don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

“I’ll tell Nathaniel we’re pulling the book.”

Mr. Whitaker was stunned.

He stared at me, mouth open. “Emily, are you sure?”

After all, I’d visited his home many times during holidays, bringing gifts and speaking up for Nathaniel about the book.

He remembered the Christmas cookies, the bottles of wine, the thank-you notes. I’d always been Nathaniel’s biggest supporter.

My sudden change caught him off guard.

He looked at me, searching my face for clues.

“Is everything okay at home?”

His concern was genuine. I forced a smile, nodding.

“Of course, we’re fine.”

The lie tasted bitter. I wondered if he believed me.

He let out a breath.

He smiled, relieved. “Good, good. You two are a great team.”

After a few more words, Mr. Whitaker left, looking relieved.

He waved goodbye, disappearing down the hall. I let out a long breath, my shoulders sagging.

When I returned to the room, my dad had his eyes closed.

He looked so small, so fragile. I wanted to crawl into bed beside him, be his little girl again.

I walked over and tucked in his blanket. The blanket was scratchy under my hands.

His skin was cool, his breathing shallow. I smoothed his hair, blinking back tears.

He suddenly spoke: “Emily, I can’t stay with you much longer. You’ll have to walk the rest of the road alone.”

His voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through me like a knife.

I paused, my eyes stinging.

I bit my lip, willing myself not to cry. I squeezed his hand, holding on tight.

My dad opened his eyes, gripping my hand tightly with his bony fingers.

He looked at me, his gaze clear for the first time in days. “You’re stronger than you think, kiddo.”

“I’ve always been proud, Emily. But for Nathaniel, I set it aside. I know he didn’t really earn that spot.”

He spoke slowly, each word deliberate. “I did what I had to, for you.”

“But I also know one thing: in marriage, what matters most is kindness and responsibility.”

He squeezed my hand, his eyes shining. “Don’t settle for less, Emily. You deserve someone who treats you right.”

“I don’t ask for anything else—only that he treats you well.”

His words echoed in my heart. I nodded, promising myself I’d remember them.

“Don’t worry, the university president is a close friend. I’ve already asked him to look after Nathaniel. After I’m gone, for my daughter’s sake, he’ll keep helping Nathaniel.”

He tried to smile, pride shining through the pain.

“That’s my last gift to you.”

“That’s all I can do for you.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded and forced a smile.

I blinked them away, not wanting him to see me cry. “Thank you, Dad. I love you.”

“Dad, don’t worry. Nathaniel and I will be fine.”

I lied, but it was a kindness. He needed to believe it.

“You’ve always had good judgment. You picked the right person.”

I swallowed hard, wishing it were true.

“Nathaniel’s been busy lately, but he said this morning he’d come see you once he’s done. He’s always thinking of you.”

I brushed his hair back, smiling through the pain. “He’ll be here soon.”

My dad managed a satisfied smile.

He closed his eyes, a peaceful look on his face. I stayed by his side until he drifted off to sleep.

After lunch break, I passed by the OB-GYN clinic and unexpectedly ran into Lila.

She was leaning against the wall, scrolling through her phone. She looked up, her eyes meeting mine. Of course it was her.

She greeted me first.

“Dr. Harper, what a coincidence, we meet again.”

Her tone was light, almost playful. I braced myself.

“I didn’t get to thank you last time. Thank you for encouraging me to live well. Now my boyfriend and I are doing great.”

She smiled, her hand drifting to her stomach. I felt a chill run down my spine.

I glanced at the test slip in her hand.

The bold letters—PREGNANCY TEST—jumped out at me. My heart dropped.

It was a pregnancy test.

The irony was almost too much. I forced a smile, nodding politely.

Just then, her name was called in the clinic.

She straightened, tucking the slip into her purse.

“Well, Dr. Harper, I’ll head in.”

She brushed past me, her perfume lingering in the air.

She looked proud, swaggering past me, her hand unconsciously touching her lower belly.

She caught my eye, a smug smile on her lips. I clenched my fists, turning away.

By evening, Nathaniel came to the hospital to see my dad.

He brought flowers, a crossword puzzle, his best smile. My dad perked up, grateful for the company.

He wiped my dad’s face and chatted with him, then came by the office to pick me up after work.

He waited outside my office, leaning against the doorframe. “Ready to go, babe?” I almost turned back.

Every time he came, the young nurses at the station would tease:

They giggled, nudging each other. “There’s Dr. Harper’s husband! He’s so dreamy.”

“Wow, Professor Harper is here to pick up Dr. Harper again.”

They winked at me, whispering behind their hands.

“Professor Harper’s basically the gold-standard husband around here. Dr. Harper is so lucky.”

They sighed, envious. I smiled, playing along.

“When I get married, I want a husband like Professor Harper—gentle and caring.”

One nurse added with a laugh, “Or at least one who brings me bagels!”

Their words echoed in my ears, mocking me.

With everyone watching, Nathaniel smiled, took my bag, and wrapped his arm around me as we walked to the elevator.

He squeezed my shoulder, whispering, “Let’s get out of here, superstar.”

I forced a smile, fighting back nausea.

My stomach churned, but I kept my head high. I wouldn’t let him see me break.

I was afraid to let anything slip, in case rumors reached my dad.

I kept my voice light, my smile bright. No one could know.

In the elevator, Nathaniel looked at me with concern: “Babe, you don’t look well. Have you been working too hard lately?”

He touched my cheek, frowning.

“You’re pale. Maybe you should take tomorrow off.”

He blamed himself.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more. I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s my fault for being too busy and neglecting you. After this academic conference, I’ll spend more time with you.”

He squeezed my hand, eyes earnest. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“It’s fine. Work is important.”

My voice was steady, but my heart was pounding. I just wanted this moment to end.

Next week, Nathaniel would represent the university at an academic conference in Boston.

He’d been talking about it for months—networking, panels, fancy dinners. I’d encouraged him, not knowing what the future would hold. If only I’d known.

It had been arranged a year ago and would last two weeks.

I’d already marked the dates on our family calendar, circled in red.

My dad helped him get the spot.

He’d pulled strings, called in favors. Nathaniel was grateful, or so he said.

And I planned to use that time to end the pregnancy.

I’d already made the appointment. Two weeks—just enough time to recover before he came home.

“Babe, any news from the publisher? You know, this conference is full of famous writers and professors. I’m just an associate professor, so I feel insecure. If the publisher confirms the book, I’ll feel more confident.”

He looked at me, hope shining in his eyes. I wanted to scream.

I watched the elevator floor numbers change, distracted.

I focused on the numbers, willing the doors to open. Anything to escape.

“It’s moving forward, almost done.”

I lied, my voice flat. He smiled, relief flooding his face.

Hearing that, Nathaniel happily kissed me on the cheek.

He squeezed my hand, humming under his breath. I pulled away, just a little. He didn’t notice.

He never doubted my efforts for him.

He trusted me, even as he betrayed me. The irony was almost laughable.

At that moment, the elevator doors opened.

The ding echoed in the silence. I stepped forward, heart in my throat.

Lila was standing outside. She saw Nathaniel kiss me.

Her eyes widened, lips parting in surprise. For a split second, she looked vulnerable—then her mask slipped back into place. She always recovered fast.

The three of us locked eyes.

Time seemed to freeze. I could hear my own heartbeat, loud and insistent.

I could feel Nathaniel’s shoulders and back tense.

His grip on my hand tightened. I glanced at him—his jaw clenched, eyes darting between us.

Lila was clearly upset too.

Her cheeks flushed, her mouth twisting into a forced smile. She looked away, then back again, as if weighing her next move.

But only for a second. Then she suddenly smiled, her gaze skipping over me and landing on Nathaniel’s face, her voice syrupy.

She squared her shoulders, chin lifted in triumph. Her voice rang out, clear and sweet.

“Nate, I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and final. The elevator doors slid closed behind us, sealing our fates. I couldn’t breathe.