Chapter 1

My husband's best friend's widow posted a pregnancy test result. "Thank you for your sperm, giving me my own baby."

I saw my husband Ethan's name listed as the father. I commented with a single question mark. Ethan called me immediately, screaming down the phone. "She's a widow! She's lonely! All she wants is a child to bring some joy into her life. How can you be so heartless?"

"Besides," he yelled, "Nathan was my best friend! He died! Taking care of his wife is the right thing to do—that's loyalty! Don't you understand!"

Not long after, the widow posted again. This time, pictures of a luxurious apartment. "So grateful to have you by my side, making me feel the warmth of home again."

In the photo, Ethan's familiar back moved in her kitchen. Looking at that photo, I knew.

It was time for this marriage to end.

......

Ethan Bennett came home just as I scheduled an abortion appointment for tomorrow. We've been married for five years, struggling to conceive. I found out I was two months pregnant a few days ago. I had planned to tell him as a surprise on our anniversary. Turns out he doesn't need it now.

Ethan dropped a bag on the table and moved to hug me. "Honey, I brought you savory oatmeal specially. Come eat."

I glanced at the thin gruel inside the bag, the sparse grains and barely-there flecks of meat. Pathetic. Probably leftovers. I dodged his touch and pushed the bag away. "I'm not hungry."

Thinking I was just being contrary, he got a bowl, ladled out the oatmeal, and held it to my lips. "Don't be like that, Honey. Isn't this your favorite?"

The cold, fishy smell hit my nose. I couldn't hold back anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and retched. Ethan followed, reaching out to pat my back. I slapped his hand away with a sharp crack!, my eyes burning as I looked at him. "Don't touch me!"

My repeated rejections finally sparked his temper. His voice rose, sharp with irritation. "What do you want? I'm practically grovelling here to make it up to you, isn't that enough? I haven't even complained about your sarcastic comments, and you're the one who won't let it go!"

The sheer nerve of him, acting like I was in the wrong! I stared at him in disbelief, my voice trembling slightly. "Are you expecting me to graciously congratulate another woman for carrying my husband's baby?"

Ethan tugged impatiently at his tie. "After Nathan died, Chloe just wanted a child to bring some joy into her life. Was that so wrong? I was Nathan's best friend. Naturally, it's my duty to look after his wife, to help her fulfill her wishes."

"Besides," he added, frustration boiling over, "Chloe and I didn't actually have sex! It was just a sperm donation! Do you really have to blow this so far out of proportion?"

"You sound like some paranoid, jealous shrew!"

A jealous shrew? Back when Nathan had just passed, I'd felt nothing but pity for Chloe, so young, a widow. I often invited her over for meals. If a light-bulb blew or an appliance broke at her place, Ethan and I went together to fix it. Chloe would get teary-eyed and say, "If only Nathan were still here, I wouldn't be such a burden."

I'd smile and say it was no trouble, just small things. Ethan would nod firmly. "Whatever you need help with, just ask. I won't refuse."

I thought it was just his loyalty to Nathan, looking out for his best friend's widow.But then... things changed.

Unknown to me, Ethan started going to the supermarket alone to carry her groceries, went to her place to assemble shoe cabinets, brought her ointment when she got burned...

He never volunteered to do these things at home for me. Unease stirred within me. Ethan insisted he was just supporting a friend's widow. What could I say? But I never imagined he would 'help' her with this!

Has he even considered? That child will call him "Dad" and Chloe "Mom." What happens to me, his actual wife? What about the children we might have?

I had planned to talk this through calmly with Ethan. But when I overheard his accusations on the phone, that plan evaporated. Now, seeing him stand there, utterly convinced of his own righteousness, I knew it was pointless.

Ethan spewed out all his resentment in a torrent, ending with, "Think hard about how petty you're being!"

Then he slammed the door behind him with a loud BANG. Where he was going at this hour? There was no question. Sure enough, a short while later, Chloe posted on Insta again. A photo showed Ethan's large hand resting possessively on Chloe's belly. The caption read: Baby's dad came to spend the evening with me and the little one. He said this is where he feels the warmth of home.

Looking at that photo, I had to laugh at my own stupidity. Laugh at this marriage that had clearly been rotting long before I noticed. I should have known the moment Ethan stopped calling her "Sister-in-law" and started calling her "Chloe."

Well then. Noticed in time. Cut my losses while I still can.