Chapter 5 - THE GRANDCHILD MARGARET DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT
Margaret Moretti called me on a Tuesday morning.
I almost didn't answer.
Then I remembered that despite everything, she'd been part of my life for five years.
"Emma."
Her voice was sharp.
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Dominic says you've filed for divorce."
"Yes."
She made an offended sound.
"Over one disagreement?"
I stared at the kitchen wall.
"Margaret, this wasn't one disagreement."
"Marriage requires patience."
"I know."
"Dominic has responsibilities."
"So do I."
She sighed dramatically.
"You're being emotional."
I closed my eyes.
Then asked, "Did you know about Vanessa?"
Silence.
"Margaret?"
She cleared her throat.
"That's a private family matter."
I felt something inside me go still.
"I'm family."
She didn't answer.
I continued.
"At least I thought I was."
Margaret's voice hardened.
"Vanessa is carrying Dominic's child."
I swallowed.
"I know."
"She needs support."
I looked down at my stomach.
"And I didn't?"
Margaret paused.
"Emma, you never understood what it means to be a Moretti wife."
I laughed softly.
"No."
Then I said:
"I think I understood it perfectly."
I ended the call.
That afternoon, I attended my first prenatal appointment in Galena.
The doctor was kind.
She asked about my medical history.
My stress levels.
My support system.
I answered honestly.
When she asked whether the baby's father was involved, I hesitated.
"Not yet."
She nodded without judgment.
We discussed routine care, nutrition, warning signs, and follow-up appointments.
Then she asked whether I wanted to hear about local parenting resources.
I almost cried.
Not because the information was extraordinary.
Because someone had asked what I needed.
Later, I sat in my car outside the clinic.
I opened the ultrasound photograph.
The image was still small.
Still fragile.
Still full of possibility.
I touched my stomach.
"You're going to have a good life," I whispered.
Then my phone rang.
Rebecca.
I answered.
"Emma, we need to talk."
My stomach tightened.
"What happened?"
"Dominic has asked his attorney to investigate your finances."
I stared.
"Why?"
"He claims he wants to ensure you're financially secure."
I laughed bitterly.
"Of course he does."
Rebecca continued.
"He's also asked whether you intend to return to work."
I looked at the résumé I'd printed that morning.
"Yes."
"Good."
She paused.
"Emma, I want you to know something."
"What?"
"You are allowed to build a life independent of him."
My eyes filled.
May you like
"I know."
But the truth was, I was only beginning to believe it.
