Chapter 5: March Fourteenth
I read Emily's sentence three times.
*Ask your wife what happened at this clinic on March 14.*
March 14.
The date meant nothing at first.
Then it did.
I had been in Chicago that week.
Three days of meetings.
Rebecca had called me every night.
On March 14, she'd told me she was sick.
I remembered sitting in a hotel room with room-service coffee going cold beside me while she said, “It's probably something I ate.””
I had offered to fly home early.
She'd laughed.
“Daniel, I'm fine. Finish your meetings.””
I looked at her now.
“What happened on March fourteenth?””
Rebecca's face was white.
“Nothing.””
Nathan muttered, “Stop.””
She spun toward him.
“You don't get to tell me what to do.””
“You're still lying.””
“I am trying to save what is left of my marriage.””
I almost couldn't believe the words.
“You think lying is saving it?””
She looked at me.
“Daniel, that photograph isn't what it looks like.””
“Then tell me what it is.””
Silence.
I held up the picture.
“Who is the woman beside Nathan?””
Rebecca looked at the floor.
Nathan answered.
“Her name is Dr. Laura Bennett.””
“A doctor?””
“Yes.””
“What kind?””
Rebecca closed her eyes.
Nathan swallowed.
“Obstetrics and gynecology.””
The air left my lungs.
I looked at my wife.
She didn't meet my eyes.
“No.””
Nobody spoke.
I stepped toward Rebecca.
“Were you pregnant?””
Her lips trembled.
“Daniel—”
“Were you pregnant?””
“Yes.””
My mother covered her mouth.
For one stupid second, joy flashed through me.
Rebecca and I had tried for children for years.
Doctors.
Tests.
Appointments.
Hope followed by disappointment.
Eventually, we'd stopped talking about it because every conversation became painful.
Rebecca had cried in my arms after our last failed treatment.
I had told her I loved her whether we ever became parents or not.
Now she was telling me she'd been pregnant.
“When?””
“I found out in February.””
My knees nearly gave out.
“February?””
She nodded.
“You knew for a month before that clinic visit?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because I didn't know whose it was.””
The room went completely silent.
I heard the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
A car passed outside.
Nothing else.
I looked at Nathan.
He stared at the floor.
“You knew?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Rebecca told me the day she found out.””
I laughed.
I couldn't help it.
“You told my brother before you told your husband?””
Rebecca started crying.
“I was terrified.””
“So you called him.””
“I needed someone.””
“You had me.””
“I couldn't tell you.””
“Why?””
“Because you'd ask exactly what you're asking now.””
I stared at her.
“Where is the baby?””
She stopped breathing.
My mother's hand found the banister.
Nathan looked away.
I knew before anyone answered.
Something inside me knew.
Rebecca whispered, “There is no baby.””
My throat tightened.
“What happened?””
She wiped her face.
“I lost it.””
“When?””
“March fourteenth.””
“At that clinic?””
“Yes.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“Why wasn't your husband there?””
Rebecca said nothing.
“Why was Nathan there?””
“He drove me.””
“And the doctor?””
“She met us outside afterward.””
Nathan stepped forward.
“Dan, she had complications. It was bad.””
I looked at him.
“You were there?””
“Yes.””
“You sat beside my wife while she lost a pregnancy that might have been mine?””
His eyes filled.
“Yes.””
I wanted to hit him.
I didn't.
Instead, I stepped backward.
That somehow felt worse.
Mom whispered, “Danny, sit down.””
“I don't want to sit down.””
Rebecca reached toward me.
“Daniel—”
“Don't touch me.””
Her hand dropped.
I looked at Nathan.
“Did Emily know?””
He nodded.
“How?””
“She followed me.””
Rebecca snapped, “She was spying on us.””
I turned toward her.
“Do not make Emily the villain.””
Rebecca flinched.
Nathan rubbed his forehead.
“Emily knew I'd been lying. She checked my location. She saw me drive Rebecca there.””
“So Emily took the photograph?””
“Yes.””
“And she gave you this envelope?””
“After she left me.””
“Why?””
“Because she said you deserved the truth.””
I held up the pages.
“What are these?””
“Messages.””
Rebecca's voice sharpened.
“Daniel, don't.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
“Please don't read those.””
“Why?””
“They were written during the worst period of my life.””
Nathan shook his head.
“That's not why.””
“Nathan, shut up.””
He ignored her.
“She doesn't want you to see what she said about you.””
Rebecca rushed toward him.
“Stop!””
Mom stepped between them.
Not me.
My seventy-eight-year-old mother.
“Enough!””
Her voice cracked across the room.
Everyone froze.
Mom pointed at Rebecca.
“My son has heard enough half-truths tonight.””
Rebecca stared at her.
Mom turned to Nathan.
“And you. He trusted you from the day you were born.””
Nathan's eyes dropped.
“Margaret—”
“No. You will not call me Margaret tonight. You called me Mom for fifteen years.””
Nathan's face crumpled.
Mom's voice softened.
“You broke something in this family that may never be repaired.””
Then she looked at me.
“Danny, read it.””
I unfolded the first page.
Screenshots.
Dates.
Messages between Rebecca and Nathan.
At first, I could barely focus.
Then one sentence caught my eye.
*Rebecca: Daniel leaves Monday morning. Come after 9.*
Another.
*Nathan: Are you sure?*
*Rebecca: He never notices anything anymore.*
My fingers tightened around the page.
Then I found a message dated three days before March 14.
*Nathan: If it's mine, we need to tell him.*
Rebecca's reply:
*Rebecca: No. If it's Daniel's, he never needs to know about us. If it's yours, we'll figure something out.*
I stopped reading.
Rebecca was sobbing.
“I was scared.””
I looked at her.
“You were calculating.””
“No.””
“You had a plan for both possibilities.””
“I wasn't thinking clearly.””
“You were thinking clearly enough to hide it.””
She shook her head desperately.
“Daniel, please understand. Losing that pregnancy destroyed me.””
My anger cracked for a moment.
Because despite everything, I remembered how badly she had wanted a child.
I couldn't celebrate her pain.
I couldn't weaponize it.
But I couldn't ignore the betrayal wrapped around it either.
“I am sorry you went through that,” I said quietly.
Rebecca stared at me.
“And I'm sorry you went through it without me.””
She started crying harder.
“But you chose that.””
Her shoulders shook.
“You chose Nathan.””
She covered her face.
Then Mom spoke.
“Danny.””
Something in her tone made me turn.
She was holding the last page from Emily's envelope.
I hadn't noticed it slip onto the floor.
Mom looked confused.
“What?””
I asked.
She handed it to me.
It wasn't a screenshot.
It was a copy of a bank statement.
My bank statement.
A withdrawal was circled.
*$42,000.*
The date was March 13.
One day before the clinic.
I looked at Rebecca.
“What is this?””
She went perfectly still.
Nathan whispered, “Oh, no.””
I turned toward him.
“You know about this too?””
He didn't answer.
“Nathan.””
Rebecca suddenly stepped forward.
“That money had nothing to do with the pregnancy.””
I stared at her.
“I didn't ask what it had to do with.””
Her face changed.
She had made another mistake.
I looked down at the statement.
The withdrawal had come from an investment account my father left me.
An account Rebecca wasn't supposed to touch without my authorization.
I raised my eyes.
“How did forty-two thousand dollars disappear from my account?””
Rebecca didn't answer.
May you like
Nathan did.
“Dan, that's the part I came here to tell you.””
