Chapter 4 - HE LEFTI wish I could say I handled the accusation with dignity.
I did not.
I threw the pregnancy test at him.
It hit his chest and landed behind the bathroom trash can.
“Get out.”
“Answer me.”
“Get out.”
“When were you with someone else?”
I shoved past him.
He followed.
I turned.
“If you ask me that one more time—”
“What am I supposed to think?”
“You’re supposed to think you had sex with your wife before a vasectomy!”
He laughed.
A terrible little laugh.
“Jessica said—”
I stopped.
“What did Jessica say?”
His face changed.
“Nothing.”
“No. You were about to say her name.”
“She knows how these things work.”
“Is she a urologist now?”
“Her ex had one.”
There it was.
Medical expertise by divorce.
Derek said his post-procedure semen sample showed no sperm.
I asked when.
He would not tell me clearly.
He kept repeating:
“It worked.”
I said pregnancy does not begin the day a test turns positive.
He accused me of twisting dates.
By midnight he had packed a suitcase.
Not everything.
Enough.
He stood near the front door.
I asked:
“Are you really leaving me while I’m pregnant because Jessica told you a vasectomy is a time machine?”
“Don’t make this about her.”
“Then stop making her part of it.”
He left.
The next morning his mother called.
She asked:
“Is there something you need to tell us?”
He had already told his family.
Not that I was pregnant.
That I was pregnant after his vasectomy.
May you like
Language is architecture.
He had built the accusation into the sentence.
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