His Other Family

Chapter 3

The movers were scheduled to arrive the day after tomorrow.

I was halfway through packing up the house when Marcus suddenly showed up around noon. The sharp smell of disinfectant hit him as soon as he stepped inside.

"What, are you planning to tear the whole place apart?"

He rolled up his sleeves with a grin.

"Leave that for now. I'm making dinner today."

He cooked tomato-braised beef, picked out every last scallion he knew I hated, and even gave me a smaller serving of beef than usual.

I'd been feeling nauseated constantly lately. When he noticed I'd barely taken two bites, he reached over to check my forehead.

"Is your stomach acting up again? I'll take you to the hospital tomorrow."

I kept my eyes down.

"I've already made an appointment."

"Who's going with you?"

"Wendy."

"Wow, you really go to her for everything these days, huh?"

He dropped a piece of beef into my bowl, his tone half teasing and half aggrieved.

"Last time I checked, I'm still your husband."

I stared at the piece of meat, and suddenly, a memory from the days just after we'd gotten our marriage license came rushing back.

Back then, Marcus couldn't cook. He'd followed an online tutorial to make soup and burned the entire pot, yet he insisted the black crust stuck to the bottom was edible.

Later, when I came down with a fever, he'd stayed up all night making soup for me, only to fall asleep at the dining table from sheer exhaustion.

Those five years we'd spent together had been real.

But so was the fact that he was leaving me now.

Halfway through dinner, he pulled out a brightly colored sheet of drawing paper.

Three people were holding hands in the picture, with a little girl in the middle whose two short pigtails stuck straight up.

"Lily drew this."

His eyes crinkled with delight.

"Her kindergarten's having a parent-child event tomorrow, and she's insisting I go. Help me pick out a shirt that'd look good for it, will you?"

When I didn't respond, he lightly tapped the rim of my bowl with his spoon.

"Come on, don't look so glum. It's just a little girl's wish."

I put down my spoon.

"Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary."

He froze for a moment before quickly breaking into an apologetic smile.

"Ugh, I've been so swamped lately that it completely slipped my mind. I'll make it up to you tonight. Just tell me what you want to eat."

I said nothing more.

I'd made our anniversary dinner reservation two weeks earlier.

I'd planned to show him the ultrasound pictures of our baby's tiny hands and feet that night. Even though we were getting divorced, he still deserved to know about the baby.

The next day, I went to the hospital alone. I waited in line, had my blood pressure checked, and sat in the waiting area until the nurse called my name.

The doctor told me the baby's heartbeat was normal and reminded me not to overwork myself.

Relieved, I clutched the examination report in my hand and sat there for a long time.

My phone buzzed.

Marcus was calling me on video. Lily was perched on his shoulders, laughing so hard that she kept smacking his hair.

"She's been bouncing off the walls all day," I heard him say from behind the camera. "Today was the first time she called me Daddy in public. Not gonna lie, I was actually kind of nervous."

I didn't reply. I simply pressed the power button and let the screen go dark.

Inside my bag, I squeezed a small gift box.

It held a pair of tiny baby socks I'd knitted myself.

But I waited all evening, and Marcus never came home.

I finally called to ask when he'd be back. The movers were coming the next day, and he still had some of his belongings to sort through. A child was chattering noisily in the background.

"Lily's having such a great time today. I'll be home late. We can celebrate our anniversary another time, okay? Don't get upset over something like this."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

For the first time, he'd hung up on me before I could say another word.

He didn't walk through the front door until 11 p.m. that night.

He paused when he noticed the moving boxes piled up by the entrance, then gently nudged one out of his way with his foot.

"Do you really have to move out so soon?"

His voice was softer than usual.

"I passed a cake shop on the way home and picked up your favorite flavor."

I didn't reach for it.

With a sigh, he set the cake on the shoe cabinet.

"Elena's pipes have sprung a pretty bad leak. I'm going to bring her and Lily over to stay here for two nights tomorrow. They'll head back the following evening. You're moving out anyway, so just do me this one favor, okay?"

My gaze fell on the words printed across the cake box: Fifth Anniversary.

"This is my home. Why are you making plans for it without even asking me?"

His hand froze on the doorknob for a moment.

"Chloe, when did you become like this? I can't even let a friend stay for two nights without having to beg for your permission now?"

I couldn't be bothered to argue.

I returned to the bedroom and took the tiny baby socks out of the little gift box I'd tucked into my bag earlier.

Beneath the padding at the bottom lay the card I'd planned to give him.

The words I'd written stared back at me: Marcus, happy fifth wedding anniversary. You're going to be a dad.

I tore the card in half and dropped it into the trash.