Episode 3
1290 Words
“Just a minute, Mr. Winfrey,” the doctor said, rifling through his drawer.
Jacob sat stiffly in the white, lifeless office, his leg bouncing with growing impatience. The low hum of the air conditioner and the ticking clock only made it worse, grating on his nerves.
For months, he’d felt off—tired, weak, run-down. He’d told himself it was nothing but stress. Work, family, Elena… Sheila. But when things didn’t improve, he finally decided to run some tests. Tests no one knew about. Not Elena. Not Sheila.
Now, across the desk, the doctor wore a look Jacob recognized too well. That hesitant, careful look doctors gave when the news wasn’t going to be good.
“What’s wrong, doc? Just say it.” His voice came out more strained than he wanted.
“You’re fine,” the doctor started, his tone slow, almost cautious. “There’s nothing life-threatening. But I do have to ask—why haven’t you been coming in for treatment with your wife?”
Jacob’s jaw tensed. “What are you talking about?” His tone was clipped. “Sheila doesn’t come here anymore. She’s not my concern. I’m here for myself, not her.”
Back then, yes. They came together, ran tests together, took turns sitting in this very room waiting for answers about her body. Not his.
The doctor leaned back in his chair, frowning. “That’s odd. I specifically advised Mrs. Winfrey to bring you in regularly for follow-ups. She was the one making sure your prescriptions were being collected. She seemed very determined you kept up with treatment.”
Jacob remembered. Her endless reminders to take pills he never understood. Back then, he’d brushed it off. Why should he care? It wasn’t him; it was her. It was always her.
“I don’t need her sticking her nose in my life anymore,” Jacob muttered. “Besides, she’s no longer my wife in any way that matters. I’ll be bringing Elena here instead. She’s carrying my child.”
The doctor paused. His pen slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the desk. “Elena? Pregnant? With your child?” His disbelief couldn’t have been more obvious.
Jacob leaned back with a smug smile. “Yes. Unlike Sheila, Elena can give me what I deserve. A family.”
The doctor shook his head, the shock on his face fading into something quieter. “Mr. Winfrey… I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
Jacob’s smile faltered. “What are you talking about?”
The doctor pulled out a file and slid it across the desk. “You’re infertile, Mr. Winfrey. Completely. There’s no chance of fathering a child. I told your wife months ago. She was supposed to bring you back for further evaluation.”
The words hit Jacob like a punch to the gut. His head spun as he stared down at the paperwork, the words practically burning through the page. Infertile. Zero chance.
“What… what are you saying?” His throat felt dry. “That can’t be true. Elena’s pregnant. She’s carrying my child.”
The doctor’s tone stayed firm, but there was a softness behind it now. “I’m sorry, Mr. Winfrey. But the tests were conclusive. Sheila did everything she could to make sure you followed through. You clearly didn’t. With your condition, it’s impossible. You can’t father a child.”
Jacob’s hand gripped the desk so tight his knuckles went white. “Sheila never told me.” His voice turned bitter, angry. “That woman…”
The doctor sighed. “She tried. I pushed for her to bring you in. She said you wouldn’t listen. She even begged me not to tell you directly—you were already difficult enough. She carried that burden on her own. And now… well, here we are.”
The truth crushed him. Elena’s baby wasn’t his. It couldn’t be.
Rage and humiliation churned in his gut as he stormed out of the office. The doctor’s voice followed him out, but Jacob heard nothing beyond the deafening rush of his pulse.
---
Sheila sat across from Mr. Allison in his book-lined office. He smiled at her with that familiar warmth, the kind that felt almost like an old friend’s approval.
“I told you back then, didn’t I?” he said.
Sheila gave a small nod. “You saved me, Mr. Allison. If I’d handed everything over to Jacob… I’d have nothing now.”
Five years ago, stupid in love, she’d nearly signed away her company, her assets—everything—to him. But Mr. Allison had convinced her to hold back, to create safety nets. Quiet ones. Fake ones.
Now, sitting here, she felt something like gratitude.
“I want a divorce,” she said, calm and sure. “Immediately.”
Mr. Allison smiled knowingly. “I figured you’d say that. The papers are ready. All that’s left is your signature.”
Sheila picked up the pen and signed without hesitation. The first step toward taking her life back.
She rose from her seat, shaking the lawyer’s hand.
“Thank you.” Her words were quiet, but sincere.
Outside, chaos had already erupted back at the house.
---
Jacob and Elena stood in the bedroom, faces twisted in anger, voices raised. The same room Sheila had once shared with him, before his mother drove her out.
Mrs. Winfrey hovered by the door, speechless for once. Had it been Sheila, she would’ve clawed at her hair by now.
“Pathetic,” Sheila muttered under her breath.
“Whose child is it?!” Jacob roared. “Huh?! Who’s the father, you lying w***e?!”
Elena folded her arms, her expression icy. “Why does it matter? You couldn’t give me one anyway.”
The words sliced clean through him.
“You lied to me,” Jacob snapped. “You made me believe—”
“I made you believe what you wanted to believe,” Elena cut in. “You really thought I’d stake my future on a man who can’t even father a child?”
From where she stood, Sheila could’ve laughed. This was better than she planned.
Jacob’s fists trembled at his sides. “Get out,” he growled.
Elena smirked, grabbing her purse. “Gladly.” She gathered her things, already halfway out the door. “I was going to leave anyway. Thanks for the cash.”
He paused for a moment, her words sinking in. “What… what are you talking about?” Jacob shuttered. Afraid that it might be what he's thinking.
“The paperwork you signed. The funds you handed over to expand your new company. It’s mine now. My name’s on it. Don’t even think of coming near me.” With that, she slammed the door on her way out.
Jacob sank to the floor, head in his hands. Reality hit harder than any punch. His marriage? Gone. Sheila? Gone. His precious Elena? Used him and left.
Elena passed Sheila on her way downstairs. “He’s all yours now,” she sneered before disappearing.
Sheila said nothing, simply climbing the stairs as if none of this mattered anymore.
Then came that familiar, shrill voice.
“Sheila! Thank goodness you’re here,” Mrs. Winfrey practically whined. “Your husband’s been through hell.”
Sheila didn’t answer. She walked past her mother-in-law like she wasn’t even there, heading straight for her room. The yelling downstairs only grew louder as she closed the door behind her, blocking it all out. None of it mattered.
Inside the peace of her room, she picked up her phone.
“Mr. Allison?” she said, a faint smile curling at her lips. “One more favor. I want my house put up for sale.”
- Writer
