The new secretary at the office has the same name as me, but she’s ten years younger. During the company’s annual health check, the medical staff mixed up our ages and gave me her HIV-positive test results by mistake. When I found out it was a false alarm, I was relieved. I was still trying to figure out how to gently break the truth to the secretary when I accidentally caught her hooking up with my husband in his office. I stood outside Connor Blackwell’s office, the test report in my hand practically crumpling under my grip. A woman’s flirty voice drifted through the door. “Connor, be gentle. I’m carrying your baby, remember?” Connor held her close, his voice dripping with affection as he chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. The doctor said it’s fine to have sex during pregnancy.” “But…” “Relax. Once the baby’s born, I’m making you my wife.” My brain exploded. The woman kept up her act, her voice sickeningly sweet. “But what about Iris? She’s already 35. Poor thing.” My name is Iris Bennett. The company’s new secretary? Her name is Iris Bennett too. She’s ten years younger than me, fresh out of college, all dewy-eyed and perky. Connor let out a cold snort. “She can’t even give me a kid. If she wasn’t somewhat useful to the company all these years, I would’ve divorced her ages ago.” I leaned against the hallway wall, my entire body going cold. We’ve been married for ten years. I never got pregnant because Connor has low sperm count. To protect his fragile ego, I covered for him. I told everyone it was my problem, that we could try IVF. To have a baby, I endured round after round of fertility shots, suffering through every needle. Turns out, in his mind, I was just a hen that couldn’t lay eggs. The secretary giggled happily. “Connor, I saw this pregnancy mattress I really want. It’s like fifty thousand dollars…” “Buy it.” Connor agreed without hesitation. “I’ll transfer you a hundred grand. Use the rest for supplements. You’re carrying my child—I won’t let you suffer.” Just last night, I’d transferred a hundred thousand dollars to Connor. He said his mom had a heart attack and needed bypass surgery. All his money was tied up in projects, and he couldn’t liquidate fast enough. That hundred thousand was my money. My mom gave it to me before she died. She said it was a woman’s security, not to be touched unless absolutely necessary. I transferred it anyway. I thought it was saving a life. Turns out, it went to his mistress. I turned and left, my steps unsteady, my mind a chaotic mess. I thought back to three days ago, when the company organized its annual wellness screening. I arrived late. By the time I got there, all the test packets had been handed out. The nurse rummaged around for a while before finding mine. “Iris Bennett, right?” I glanced at it, ready to shove the report into my bag, when I noticed a line of small print at the bottom: [HIV preliminary screening: Positive. Recommend follow-up testing immediately.] I froze. My first thought was: impossible. Connor and I have been married ten years. Our sex life has been practically nonexistent. In the past six months, he barely touched me. And I’ve never been with anyone else. How could I have this disease? Then a nurse rushed over, flustered, saying they’d mixed up the reports. That’s when I realized—they’d accidentally swapped mine with another Iris in the company. She was the new secretary. Only 25 years old. I was still trying to figure out how to delicately suggest she get retested when I overheard the conversation in his office.
I didn’t go back to the office. Instead, I drove straight to the city’s CDC clinic. Registration. Blood draw. Testing. The doctor said post-exposure prophylaxis works best within 72 hours of high-risk contact. Taking it now? The effectiveness was uncertain. I picked up the medication and swallowed it with cold water. Whether it worked or not, I had to take it. As I walked out of the clinic, I spotted a familiar license plate. Connor’s black Audi. In the passenger seat, the secretary leaned against him, smiling sweetly. They were at the clinic too. I ducked behind a pillar and overheard the secretary asking in a sugary voice: “Connor, did you hear? Someone at the company tested positive for HIV.” Connor frowned. “Who told you that?” “Jake from HR told me secretly. He said they didn’t release the name to protect privacy.” The secretary lowered her voice. “Who do you think it is?” Connor scoffed. “Who cares? It’s got nothing to do with us. Just focus on the baby and stop worrying.” “But…” “No buts.” Connor pulled her closer. “That kind of dirty disease—only people who sleep around get it. Not like you who gave me her first time.” She nestled into his arms, blushing. “Then you better treat me right…” “Of course I will.” I stayed hidden behind the pillar, my nails digging into my palms. Her first time? If she’d only been with Connor, she wouldn’t have that disease. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was Marcus Reed, the headhunter. “Have you thought about it? We’re still holding the position for you. Fifty percent salary increase, plus equity incentives.” Marcus had been trying to recruit me for six months. I’d always turned him down. Because Connor built his company from the ground up, and I was his first employee. From a startup with three desks to a team of over fifty people—I’d given everything. I thought we’d be together forever. Now I see how stupid I was. “I’ve made up my mind.” My voice was calm. “I can start next week.” “Fantastic!” Marcus sounded thrilled. “I’ll send the offer letter right away.” I hung up and watched Connor’s car pull out of the clinic parking lot. The last bit of reluctance in my heart vanished completely. That evening, Connor came home early. For once. Takeout boxes sat on the table. He’d even lit candles. “You’re back?” He looked up at me, smiling warmly. “Long day?” I stood in the doorway, unmoving. “What’s wrong?” He walked over, reaching for my bag. I stepped back. His hand froze mid-air. “I’m not feeling well.” I said. “Might be coming down with something.” His eyes flickered, but he quickly smiled again. “Get some rest then. Oh, by the way, I’m going on a business trip next week. About a week.” I sneered inwardly. Going on a romantic getaway with the secretary , more like. I’d just seen her bragging about it on Instagram. “Okay.” I nodded. “I’m going on a trip too.” He blinked. “You’re traveling?” “Yeah. A project I need to close.” I kept my expression neutral. “Might be gone two weeks.” “That long?” He frowned, but quickly relaxed. “Alright. Stay safe.” Then he leaned closer. “It’s been a while since we… you know. How about tonight?” He smiled suggestively, his hand sliding to my waist. Every hair on my body stood on end. Not from desire. From disgust. “I can’t.” I pushed him away. “I’m sick. I don’t want you to catch it.” He looked annoyed. “It’s just a cold…” “What if it’s the flu?” I stared at him. “You can’t afford to get sick right now. The company needs you.” He finally backed off, looking sheepish. “Fine. Get some sleep.” I locked myself in the bathroom. Turned on the shower. My stomach churned. I scrubbed the places he’d touched, scrubbing until my skin turned red. Thank God he hadn’t touched me in the past six months. Otherwise, I’d be the one at the clinic getting blood drawn.
The next morning, I went to the office to submit my resignation letter. The HR manager looked shocked. “Ms. Bennett, why are you suddenly resigning? Does Connor know?” “I’ll tell him myself.” I slid the letter across the desk. “According to my contract, I have a one-month transition period.” “I… I need to check with Connor first.” “No need.” The office door swung open. The secretary strutted in wearing high heels, clutching a report in her hand. She looked at me, a smile on her lips but contempt in her eyes. “Iris is resigning?” She slapped the report on the desk. “Is it because of this?” I looked down. It was the mixed-up test report. On the last page, a line of small print had been circled in red pen: [HIV preliminary screening: Positive.] The HR manager gasped. Outside the office, a crowd had gathered, whispering: “Ms. Bennett has HIV?” “She always acted so proper…” “I literally ate lunch with her today. Could I get infected?” I looked up at the secretary . “This isn’t my test report.” “It’s not?” She raised an eyebrow. “But it clearly has your name on it.” “The nurse made a mistake. If you don’t believe me, call the clinic.” The secretary smiled. “Then why are you resigning? Is it because you got this dirty disease and you’re too ashamed to stay? Are you quitting to go get treatment?” Connor burst into the room. He saw the report on the desk. His face turned gray. “Iris!” He pointed at me, his voice shaking. “What the hell is this?!” I said nothing. The secretary clung to his arm, her voice soft. “Connor, don’t be upset. Maybe Iris went to a dirty public bathhouse or something…” “A bathhouse?” Connor shoved her aside, his eyes bloodshot as he glared at me. “This is a dirty disease! Only people who sleep around get it!” Silence fell over the room. Everyone stared at us. I looked at Connor. This man I’d loved for ten years. The disgust and fear in his eyes were so real, so piercing. “I didn’t sleep around.” I said. “Then how did you get this disease?!” He roared. “You think I’m an idiot?!” The secretary spoke softly. “Connor, I looked it up. Iris doesn’t have symptoms yet, so it must be early-stage infection. Maybe one or two months…” Connor froze, then visibly relaxed. “One month…” He muttered. “Thank God I haven’t touched you in months…” I laughed. “So,” I looked at Connor, “you actually believe I have HIV?” “The evidence is right here!” He jabbed at the report. “You still gonna deny it?!” “Then what if I told you,” I said slowly, “that I’m pregnant?” The office erupted. “Pregnant?!” “Ms. Bennett is pregnant?!” “Then the baby…” Connor’s face went completely dark. “Bullshit!” He screamed. “How long has it been since I touched you?! Whose asshole are you carrying?!” The secretary looked stunned, but quickly recovered. “Iris, even if you want to keep Connor, you can’t make up lies like this…” “I’m not lying.” I touched my stomach. “I just found out yesterday, I am pregnant.” “That night Connor got drunk…”
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