Chapter 3 - THE PREGNANCY HE NEVER KNEW ABOUT
I closed the door.
Vincent began pounding on it.
"Claire! Open up!"
Rebecca immediately called the building's security desk.
Within minutes, Vincent was escorted outside.
I watched through the window as he stood beside his car, staring at the apartment building.
Then he drove away.
I expected to feel triumphant.
Instead, I vomited into the kitchen sink.
Rebecca came running.
"Claire?"
I raised one hand.
"I'm okay."
She looked at me.
Then at the prenatal vitamins sitting beside my coffee machine.
Her expression softened.
"Have you told him?"
"No."
"Are you going to?"
"I don't know."
Rebecca sat beside me.
"Whatever happens with the divorce, we need to handle the pregnancy carefully. Vincent may have legal rights and responsibilities as the child's father."
"I know."
"I'm not telling you to involve him today. I'm telling you to make decisions that protect you and the baby."
I rested my hand over my stomach.
Twelve weeks.
After losing Grace, I hadn't expected to become pregnant again so soon.
The second pregnancy had arrived like a whisper.
A positive test on a rainy November morning.
A blood test confirming it.
An ultrasound showing a heartbeat.
I had planned to tell Vincent on Thanksgiving.
I even bought a little pair of white socks.
Then I found the receipt for Vanessa's bracelet.
The socks were still inside a drawer.
Unopened.
---
My obstetrician, Dr. Hannah Brooks, had known me since residency.
She also knew about Grace.
That afternoon, I called her.
"I need an appointment."
"Is something wrong?"
"Not physically."
There was a pause.
"Claire?"
"My husband has another wife."
Hannah didn't speak for several seconds.
Then she said, "Come in tomorrow. We'll check the baby, and we'll make sure you have support."
The simplicity of her response nearly made me cry.
No interrogation.
No judgment.
Just someone asking whether I was safe.
---
At the appointment, the ultrasound technician dimmed the lights.
I lay on the examination table while the image appeared on the monitor.
A tiny figure.
A moving hand.
A fluttering heartbeat.
Hannah smiled.
"Everything looks reassuring today."
I closed my eyes.
For several moments, I allowed myself to feel happy.
Then Hannah asked, "Do you want to know the estimated due date again?"
I nodded.
"July eighth."
July eighth.
A summer baby.
I imagined warm sunlight through a nursery window.
Tiny socks drying beside the washing machine.
A child laughing in a backyard.
For the first time in days, the future didn't look entirely frightening.
---
When I returned to the apartment, a package waited outside my door.
No sender's name.
Inside was a silver picture frame.
It contained an ultrasound photograph.
Not mine.
Vanessa's.
A handwritten note rested beneath it.
Vincent deserves to be present for his child's life. Please stop trying to take him away from us.
I stared at the words.
Then I noticed the postmark.
The package had been mailed three days before Christmas.
Before Vanessa's emergency.
Before Vincent walked into my hospital.
She had already known about me.
And she had already decided that I was the obstacle.
I photographed everything for Rebecca.
Then my phone rang.
It was the hospital's chief medical officer, Dr. Eleanor Whitcomb.
"Claire, I need to speak with you about Christmas Eve."
My stomach tightened.
"Of course."
"There's been a complaint."
"From whom?"
"Vanessa Hale."
I sat down.
"What kind of complaint?"
Dr. Whitcomb hesitated.
"She alleges that you deliberately delayed her obstetric care after discovering her relationship with your husband."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
I had helped stabilize Vanessa.
I had called the obstetric team immediately.
I had remained professional despite watching my marriage collapse.
And now she was accusing me of endangering her pregnancy.
"That's false."
"I understand you're upset."
"I'm not upset, Eleanor. I'm telling you the allegation is false."
"We'll conduct an impartial review."
"Good. Preserve every monitoring record, chart timestamp, and staff statement."
"I've already instructed risk management."
"Then I expect the review to establish what happened."
When the call ended, my hands were shaking.
Vanessa hadn't merely taken my husband.
She was coming after my career.
May you like
And I was beginning to understand that she was far more calculating than Vincent wanted me to believe.
---
