Chapter 3: When the Truth Bleeds Through

Seven years of marriage, and now we finally had a child.

It should have been the happiest day of my life. Instead, it felt like the end of everything. Funny, huh?

I remembered when I first found out Savannah was pregnant. The stiff look on her face.

She avoided my eyes, her hands twisting in her lap. I figured she was just overwhelmed.

I just figured she was so happy, she was in shock.

I wrapped my arms around her, laughing, spinning her around the kitchen. She barely smiled.

When I hugged her tight, she managed a couple of awkward laughs. Almost like she was acting.

Her laughter sounded forced, like she was reading lines from a script. I ignored it. Convinced myself she’d come around.

My heart dropped when I saw the reminder pop up—a cold, clinical date, two weeks later. I felt like the floor had opened up beneath me.

When I confronted her, she looked annoyed. Her voice was distant.

She wouldn’t meet my eyes. "I… don’t want a baby. I’m scared of all the pain."

"Savannah! I’ll work even harder, I swear. I’ll pick up extra shifts driving after work. I promise, you and the baby won’t have a hard life!"

I was practically begging, my voice cracking. And I meant every word.

She kept her face cold. Didn’t say anything else.

She just stared at the wall, unmoved. I felt invisible.

The next morning, Tyler showed up at our door. No warning.

He didn’t even knock. Just barged in like he owned the place. He looked at me with pure contempt.

"I trusted you with my cousin, and this is what you do?"

His words stung, but I couldn’t find a single thing to say in my defense.

She didn’t even look back. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving me alone in the quiet apartment.

They were gone for a week. On the seventh night, Savannah came home alone.

She breezed in like nothing had happened, humming to herself. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright.

She hugged me, almost too tightly. "Babe, I’ve thought it through. I want to keep the baby."

Later, I learned she’d had an amniocentesis.

A neighbor mentioned seeing her at the women’s clinic. I didn’t ask questions. I wanted to trust her.

Savannah said it was to check if the baby was healthy. But now I realize—it was for a paternity test. To see if the child was Tyler’s.

The truth hit me like a punch to the gut. All those nights she was gone, she was deciding if she could live with my child—or if she’d rather have his.

Turns out, it wasn’t that she didn’t want a baby—she just didn’t want mine.

The realization made everything else fall into place. The coldness, the distance—they were real.

After all, what woman wants a child with a man she doesn’t love?

I took the tissue Marcus handed me and finally went to peek into the hospital room.

I hesitated at the door, heart pounding. But I had to see it for myself. The room was warm, filled with soft lamplight and the quiet beeping of monitors.

Seeing Savannah curled up happily in Tyler’s arms, my heart ached with a dull bitterness.

She looked so content, so at peace. Tyler brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. She smiled up at him like he was her whole world.