Chapter 2:The Cost of Certainty
1080 Words
Daniel
I stared at the monitor until the sound of her footsteps died out.
Even after the elevator chimed in the distance, I didn't move.
I pulled open my desk drawer and took out my copy of the paternity test.
The paper was crisp, unlike the one she had crumpled in her hands.
0% probability of paternity.
The numbers didn't change no matter how long I looked at them. No matter how much I wanted them to.
Then my door opened.
"What happened?"
I didn't have to look up to know it was Ryan.
"Nothing happened."
He walked further into the room. He learned against the chair Isabel had just been standing behind.
"I just saw her in the lobby. Her eyes were red, Daniel."
I picked up a silver pen and twirled it in my fingers, staring at the blinking cursor in front of me.
"She’s responsible for whatever she’s feeling right now.",
“What's that supposed to mean?”, he asked.
I saw his eyes shift. He looked down at the desk, his gaze landing on the only paper on my table.
His eyes scanned through. His mouth opened slightly but no sound came out.
"Did she have an explanation?", he asked quietly. He didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes on the paper
"There is nothing to explain." I picked the paper and tossed it toward him to satisfy his curiosity. "She's carrying another man’s child. The test proves it."
Ryan picked up the paper. He read it twice, his brow furrowing.
"Labs make mistakes, Daniel. It happens."
I paused. That's the same thing she said.
"It’s already verified," I said, my voice hardening.
“But this is Isabel we're talking about.” he argued, tossing the paper back to my desk. “You really think she'd be lying to you”
I glanced at him, then turned back to my screen.
“I'm not having this conversation a second time, Ryan”, I said, my voice flat.
He didn't push. He knew my tone.
He just set the paper back on the desk and looked at me for a long beat.
"I hope you're right about this."
He turned and walked out, leaving the door open.
His words echoed in my head.
Would Isabel really be lying to me?
For a second, the image of her in the office flashed in my mind. She had looked so certain. The flicker of doubt was sharp, like a needle under the skin.
I looked at the results again. As I did, I thought about the possibility of an error.
It's not impossible.
But 0%? That was absolute. The child had absolutely no part of me. There would be nothing to look forward to when he was born.
I could do another test, in another lab. But this test was done in the best hospital in the city.
And what if after doing another test, it came out the same?
After another whole week of waiting…
Waiting in the hopes that it would be different from what’s staring at me now…
Only to be devastated again…
Then Isabel would look at me…
And try to defend herself by calling it another mistake.
“What’s the point?”, I spat out, throwing the pen I forgot I'd been fumbling in my fingers.
I fell back on my chair.
I remembered the last four months when her business was just starting.
She'd been out late all those nights. Said she was working late.
Was it really business? Or was it something else?
Did I miss the signs? Maybe I did. Maybe I was the love blinded husband who provided everything while she was getting pleasure from elsewhere.
The thought of that made my blood boil. My teeth clenched hard as I decided what to do next.
I reached for the office phone and dialed my assistant. I gave her the instructions and she responded without questions.
Then I dialed the house.
It connected on the third ring.
"Mr. Ashford?" Winston answered.
"Winston. Isabel is leaving."
"Sir?", the confusion in his voice was clear.
"She's coming back to pick her things”, I said. “Make sure she takes everything that belongs to her. I want her things out of the house before I get back tonight."
"Understood, sir," Winston replied.
I hung up.
I stayed at the office until ten. Not because I needed to.
I went through three sets of quarterly reports. I answered emails that weren't urgent.
I let every minor task become an excuse to stay in my office long enough.
I didn't want to hear her voice or watch her cry again. I wanted the house to be empty when I arrived.
When I finally pulled into the driveway, the house was dark. I felt a grim sense of relief. It was over.
I opened the front door and stepped into the foyer. I stopped.
Three large suitcases and a row of boxes sat right by the entrance.
"Winston!", I called out.
The butler appeared from the shadows of the dining room. "Yes, Mr. Ashford?"
"Why is her stuff sitting here?" I gestured at the luggage. “Is she still around?”
“No, sir. She…”
"I told you I wanted them gone.”, I interrupted him. “You were supposed to make sure that she took everything with her"
"Sir, she never came back to the house."
I stared at him.
"What do you mean she never came?"
Winston looked at the suitcases, then back at me. His expression was unreadable.
"I waited all afternoon, sir. I had the staff pack her wardrobe as you instructed. But Mrs. Ashford never..."
“Isabel”, I corrected him, my voice sharp as a blade.
He took a small step back. He looked at me with a sudden fear in his eyes.
“Yes, sir”, he stuttered. “Isabel…never returned to the house”
I looked at the boxes.
She had left with nothing. Not her clothes, not her shoes. Not even money. Just the dress she had worn to my office and the crumpled papers in her bag.
A strange, cold feeling started to grow in the back of my mind. The thought of where she could have gone. Or who.
Was it intended or by accident?
But I drowned it immediately .
“Get rid of them”, I told him, before vanishing into the house.
- Writer
