Chapter 5: Secrets Revealed

That thin piece of paper landed on his suit, the Northwestern Memorial Hospital logo visible even from where I sat. Michael’s composure finally cracked.

He grabbed my wrist, squeezing so hard I thought he’d break it: “What did you say?!” His eyes went wild, desperate, searching my face for any hint I was lying.

I looked at his shocked, panicked eyes, smiling through my tears. The irony tasted like copper in my mouth.

Michael’s face went pale, his lips trembling. It took him ages to find his voice: “No... impossible... I didn’t know...” He picked up the paper with shaking hands, reading it over and over as if the words might change.

“Of course you didn’t know...” I tore my hand free, tears streaking my face, raw and unstoppable, my voice shaking with a sob from somewhere deep inside.

“Where is your heart? When exactly did it start to wander? Was it when you started working late? When you stopped coming to bed with me? When you started taking calls on the balcony?”

He stood there stunned, wanting to say something, but finally just pressed his lips tight, a flash of embarrassed hurt crossing his face. For once, Michael Harrison had no easy justification.

He took a deep breath, like he could shake off the moment, and sat down beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight, trying to soften his posture and embrace me.

I dodged like he was toxic, scrambling to the other side of the bed that suddenly felt too small.

His arms froze in mid-air, then dropped, powerless. I saw his wedding ring catch the light—platinum, engraved with our initials and wedding date. He still wore it, as if that meant anything.

After a long silence, so long I could hear the traffic forty floors below, he finally spoke:

“I’m sorry, honey... but you were pregnant, why... why didn’t you tell me?”

Without waiting for my answer, he pressed on, like he was trying to convince himself as much as me:

“Even if you counted on my love for you, you should’ve at least given me the right to know, right? I’m human too. Sometimes I get tired.” His voice took on that boardroom tone, the one he used for hostile takeovers.