I could barely form the next question.
“Whose… whose baby was it?”
Michael gave a broken, bitter laugh.
“The doctor said you were three months along. Susan, you do the math. We hadn’t touched each other in half a year by then.”
My legs gave out and I collapsed onto the sofa. Three months. Had not been intimate in six months. The baby was Ethan’s.
“I… I was really pregnant?”
I still could not believe it.
“And the baby? What happened to the baby?”
Michael closed his eyes, tears tracking down his cheeks.
“I had the doctor perform an abortion.”
His voice sounded like it was being dragged up from hell.
“While you were unconscious, I signed the consent form. I had them take the child.”
My mind went white. I had carried Ethan’s child, and Michael had ended the pregnancy while I was passed out.
“How could you?”
I whispered it.
“How could I?”
Michael suddenly roared.
“You have the nerve to ask me how I could? Susan, you were carrying another man’s child. What was I supposed to do? Let you give birth to it? Let the whole world know my wife cheated on me and was having another man’s baby?”
His words were knives stabbing me.
“But that was a life.”
“A life?”
Michael sneered.
“When you were cheating, did you ever think about the life of our family? When you were with him, did you ever think that Jake needed a whole and happy home?”
I had no response. He was right. It was all my fault.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
I sobbed.
“Why did you hide it from me?”
“Tell you?”
Michael wiped his tears away.
“Tell you what? To make you feel guilty? To make you suffer? Or to make you hate me even more?”
“I wouldn’t hate you.”
“You would.”
He cut me off.
“You’d hate me for taking away your right to be a mother. You’d hate me for making that choice while you were unconscious. So I chose not to tell you. I thought you would never find out. I thought this secret would be buried with time.”
“But I know now.”
I screamed it, crumbling.
“I know. Do you understand? I know.”
Michael looked at me, his expression a heartbreaking mix of pain and exhaustion.
“Yes. You know.”
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“So what now? What do you want to do? Do you want to hate me? Or do you want to forgive me?”
He stepped closer, his voice rising with every word.
“Or maybe you want to go find that man and tell him you once had his child.”
“No, I—”
“Susan, some things are in the past for a reason.”
Michael turned away.
“Just pretend you don’t know. We can keep on living like this.”
“I can’t.”
I yelled it through tears.
“I can’t pretend I don’t know.”
“Then what do you want?”
He whipped around.
“A divorce? Fine. Let’s go right now and file the papers.”
