In the fourth month of my pregnancy, my husband, Marcus Whitaker, and I had a late-night heart-to-heart, promising to be completely honest with each other. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, but then his expression turned serious. He said he slept with my sister, Ivy Langston. The room fell silent, and my smile froze on my face. He quickly waved it off as a joke, but then, almost casually, added, “But Ivy is really beautiful. Especially her stomach… it’s so flat and soft. I mean, it’s obvious, right? A woman who’s never been pregnant would have smooth, flawless skin there.” His tone was nonchalant, but the look in his eyes was wistful. In that moment, I knew what he really meant. Five years ago, I’d been pregnant. The baby died shortly after birth, and ever since, he’d secretly referred to me as “a second-hand house” when talking to his friends. And it wasn’t just a harmless joke. I drafted a divorce agreement and placed it, along with my miscarriage report, on his bedside table. Not long after I left, he lost his mind. That was when he finally remembered the baby I lost five years ago was his. ***** After my latest prenatal checkup, Marcus took me to one of my favorite restaurants. My morning sickness had been relentless, and I had to excuse myself multiple times to run to the restroom. When I returned, pale and exhausted, he suddenly broke the silence. “I dreamed of having sex last night,” he said. I looked up, puzzled. Since my pregnancy, we hadn’t been intimate. The doctor had said my health was too fragile for any strenuous activity. I didn’t understand why he’d bring up this topic. Before I could ask, he dropped the bombshell. “But the person was Ivy.” Ivy was my sister. We’d grown up together, but after I got married, we’d drifted apart. As far as I knew, she and Marcus barely knew each other. He said it so casually, then went right back to eating, as if it was nothing. Meanwhile, I sat frozen in place, the words echoing in my mind. He had mentioned this before, during our late-night chat. This was the second time today. What kind of man brought up sleeping with another woman twice in one day? I gripped my fork tightly. “And?” I asked, my voice tight. He glanced at me, his eyes lingering for a moment before he looked away with a shrug. “And? Well… it felt pretty good.” I couldn’t eat another bite. The nausea hit me like a wave, and I barely managed to hold back the bile rising in my throat. Gagging, I bolted for the restroom. When I came out, he was waiting by the door. Without missing a beat, he reached for my hand, his grip warm and firm. “Don’t take it to heart,” he said lightly. “I was just joking.” Then he leaned in, pinching my pale cheek as if to tease me. “Look at you, all worked up again. You’re still as timid as ever.” His tone was so casual and so unbothered, like he truly believed he’d done nothing wrong. After paying the bill, he held my hand as we walked to the parking lot. But with every step, the chill in my heart deepened. Once we were in the car, he leaned over to buckle my seatbelt, his movements gentle and familiar. “I’ll grab you something to settle your stomach,” he said, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “Just wait here, okay? I’ll be quick.” Because of a past car accident, I’d developed a fear of cars. To reassure me, he always held my hand during drives. Even when he had to step away, he’d make sure I was calm before leaving. He was still so attentive and careful. If I hadn’t heard his words with my own ears, I would’ve believed he was the perfect husband. As I sat there, I noticed his phone on the seat. The screen lit up, and a message popped up from Ivy. [Same place tonight. I’ve already booked the room.] My chest tightened, and my hands trembled as I stared at the screen. So it wasn’t just a joke. In the distance, I saw Marcus turning back, probably realizing he’d forgotten his phone. I closed my eyes, forcing down the storm of emotions rising inside me. Taking a deep breath, I locked the screen and placed the phone back where I’d found it.
Marcus opened the car door, scratching his head with a sheepish smile. “Look at me. I forgot my phone.” He unlocked the phone and when he saw the message, a faint glimmer of satisfaction flashed across his face. I caught the shift in his expression but said nothing. When he came back, he was holding a big bag of food. He handed me a cup of steaming coffee and said with a casual tone, “Declan’s been craving a game, babe. I’m sorry, you’ll have to take care of yourself tonight. I’m heading out to play a few rounds with him.” I glanced at the bag on the seat behind him, mostly ready-to-eat meals. He said it so easily, as if everything was in perfect order. This was how he’d always been, so thoughtful and considerate. It made me believe, without a doubt, that he loved me deeply. He leaned over and kissed my cheek gently, his hand resting on my growing belly. “Take care of your mom tonight, little one. I’ll be back a bit late.” His voice was so gentle and loving that it would make anyone think he was the ideal father-to-be. But the familiar wave of nausea hit me again, and I fought to push it down. Even with the warmth of the coffee in my hands, I couldn’t shake the cold feeling creeping through my body. Before, he would’ve noticed something was off with me immediately. But now, after seeing that message from Ivy, his mind was somewhere else entirely. Just before I got out of the car, I asked casually, “What time will you be back tonight? I’ll wait for you.” He barely glanced up from his phone, distracted. “Declan’s tough to beat. Maybe by eleven. You should head inside.” I grabbed the heavy bag of food, feeling like it was weighing me down with every step. The moment I stepped out of the car, the door slammed shut, and the car sped off quickly. I was startled by the suddenness, my heart racing in panic. He knew how much I feared cars, yet after seeing that message, he couldn’t care less. I stood alone on the empty street, my chest aching with an unbearable weight. The ridiculous part was that Declan Mercer was Ivy’s boyfriend. Even though we hadn’t been as close in recent years, I’d always cared about her. She was the family I trusted the most. The few times Marcus had interacted with her were during her visits to see me. But I remembered the way her eyes lit up when she first saw him. He had mentioned it, but I never thought much of it, joking, “Ivy always gets starry-eyed around handsome guys. Consider it a compliment. She likes your looks!” I never imagined she could be interested in my husband. But reality shattered that illusion. While I was struggling with severe morning sickness, unable to eat or sleep, the two people I loved the most were betraying me. The pain hit me like a slap, a feeling I couldn’t escape. It was only when I dug deeper that I realized just how far things had gone. After the conversation with Marcus the night before, I couldn’t sleep. His words about Ivy kept playing in my mind. As soon as I felt his breathing steady beside me, I grabbed my phone and started scrolling through both his and Ivy’s social media. Marcus didn’t post much, and when he did, it was usually about me. Ivy’s posts, on the other hand, were mostly makeup tips and fashion. But something in my gut told me this wasn’t the whole story. I went through her liked posts one by one, and what I found made my blood run cold.
From time to time, Ivy would use a few accounts to repost giveaway posts, asking me to help her like them. She probably didn’t realize one of those accounts still had my likes on it. When I clicked through the profile, I thought for a second that I had accidentally opened a porn website. There, in front of me, were a series of suggestive photos, different lingerie sets, all worn by the same woman. And standing behind her was a man with his chest exposed. In nearly every image, she was draped over him, striking one provocative pose after another. The man, playing along, had his hand resting on her soft belly, his large palm seeming to engulf her tiny waist. The contrast was raw, almost animalistic. The captions were just as daring. [What should I do if I slept with my sister’s husband? Hope she doesn’t hate me for it.] The comment section thought it was all a joke and offered playful suggestions. [Divorce? Nah, he adores my sister. He’s not leaving her.] [My sister’s pregnant, and I’ve had my eye on her husband for ages. So, yeah… I just went for it.] Then, as the comments grew bolder, some started calling her out. [My sister and I look so much alike. Why does she get such a good guy, and I don’t?] [If you want him, just take him, right? Guess what? I did. LOL.] At first, I convinced myself that it was just Ivy being her usual over-the-top self. She’d always been that way. Posting strange and cryptic things wasn’t anything new. Plus, I never thought Marcus would cheat. But then I came across one particular picture, and suddenly, all my confidence shattered. In that photo, Ivy was lying on the man’s chest, her body pressed so close. And just above his heart, the tattoo was my initials. I remembered when he had gotten that tattoo, he swore to me, “Evelyn, I’m putting you as close to my heart as possible. I’ll love you forever.” But the caption that went with that picture was: [My sister’s husband is amazing in bed. He even said it’s way better than with my sister.] [Men just love little temptresses like me.] As I looked at the sleeping face of Marcus in the photo, everything inside me came crashing down. I rushed to the bathroom, vomiting until I thought I might pass out. His promises were still echoing in my head, but the man who had made them had already turned his back on me. As memories of everything we’d been through together flashed before my eyes, I tried to tell myself it wasn’t real. But today, his blatant hints had destroyed every last piece of hope. He really betrayed me. Around 11 PM, Marcus called. “Evelyn, Declan’s friend just opened a new internet cafe. He wants me to join him for an all-nighter, so I won’t be home tonight.” I could hear his breath, heavy and forced, as if he was trying to hide something. I lowered my gaze and, keeping my voice steady, asked, “Still not done with the game?” On the other end, I heard a soft giggle from a woman, followed by the sound of someone muffling a moan. Marcus quickly replied, “Go to sleep early. I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow.” The call ended with a click, leaving me with the sound of a busy signal. I stared out at the dark night beyond the window, feeling a coldness spread inside me, like I was trapped in an endless void. Even though the giggle was soft, I immediately recognized it was Ivy. I had become an unwilling part of their twisted little game. I had expected to break down and cry, but strangely, I felt unnervingly calm. Without a second thought, I dialed Declan. “Evelyn, what’s up at this hour?” “Is Marcus with you?” I asked directly. There was a brief, noticeable pause on the other end, before Declan quickly gathered himself. “Yeah, Marcus said the weather’s nice and invited me for a night jog. “He went to buy water, so he’ll probably be a while.” A cold, bitter smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. One lie after another had been spun into a huge web, trapping me for all these years. I spoke in an icy tone, “Declan, stop lying. I know Marcus is cheating on me.” There was a brief silence from him. Just as he was about to come up with an excuse, I had already sent him Ivy’s post. When he saw the content, he went dead silent, disbelief flooding his voice. “How could this… Ivy, she would never…” He’d been covering for Marcus, and now the truth had turned the tables on him. It turned out that someone was even more pitiful than I was. Declan’s voice was shaky, and after a long pause, he finally let out a heavy sigh. “Evelyn, I’m sorry. Thank you for telling me the truth. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.” I did need something from him. “Gather all the evidence of Marcus’ affair and send it to me.” He agreed quickly and then hesitated before asking, “Evelyn… do you want a divorce?” “Yes.” After a long silence, he sent over a few screenshots of their chat. “This is all I could find for now. If you need more, I’ll dig around some more.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “Thanks.” I hung up, taking several deep breaths to steady myself before finally opening the images. Even though I had mentally prepared myself, seeing what was in those pictures made my world spin. My blood seemed to rush to my head, and I nearly collapsed. A wave of anger and injustice rushed through me, and I shook uncontrollably, my hands losing their grip on the phone. It slipped from my fingers and hit the floor. I collapsed to my knees, my hands clutching my face as I cried. The phone screen, still on, displayed the text so clearly. Declan: [Marcus, next time you use me as an excuse for your affair, could you give me a heads up? You almost blew my cover!] Marcus’ reply was indifferent. [Don’t worry. She won’t suspect it.] Declan: [Evelyn’s so gorgeous. Aren’t you satisfied? Nine months isn’t that long to wait.] Marcus took forever to reply this time. He seemed disgusted by the topic. [She’s just got a pretty face. Who knows how many men she’s been slept with before?] [Thinking about her having a kid… it makes me sick. If it wasn’t for her still being able to have children, I wouldn’t even bother with her.] I couldn’t bring myself to look at any more of it. Tears streamed down my face. My stomach twisted painfully, and I felt nauseous, but nothing came up. I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe properly, until I shakily picked up the phone again. Seeing Marcus’ profile picture, my own photo used as his avatar, I felt disoriented. My stomach clenched, almost as though it was protesting on my behalf. I could’ve chosen to forget it all and move on with my life, but the moment I saw Marcus again, I threw myself at him without hesitation. In the eyes of the man I loved so deeply, I was nothing but dirty, yet that child who died right after birth five years ago was also his.
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