Chapter 2 - The True Diagnosis
I didn't scream. I didn't cry.
I picked up a pen from the kitchen counter, signed the divorce petition without a single tremor in my hand, and slid it back across the lemon-polished wood.
"You can have the house, Ethan," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I’ll have my bags packed by noon."
Margaret looked triumphant. Ethan looked relieved—a coward who had paid his mother to do his dirty work.
I left the house with two suitcases and drove straight to Dr. Chen’s office. I didn't cancel the 9:30 a.m. appointment. I sat in the sterile white examination room, staring at the wall, until Dr. Chen walked in with a thick manila folder.
She looked at me with deep, profound sympathy.
"Rebecca," Dr. Chen said softly. "I see Ethan isn't with you. Did his mother give him the lab results?"
I frowned. "What lab results? Margaret told Ethan that someone here confirmed I was barren."
Dr. Chen’s expression hardened into absolute medical fury.
"That is a severe HIPAA violation by whoever Margaret spoke to in our records department, and I will be launching an immediate investigation," Dr. Chen stated coldly. "But Rebecca... Margaret lied to him. And she lied to you."
She opened the folder and turned a piece of paper toward me.
"Ethan secretly submitted a sample three weeks ago," Dr. Chen explained. "Your diminished reserve makes getting pregnant harder, yes. But it does not cause recurrent miscarriages. Ethan has severe sperm DNA fragmentation. He is the reason you have been losing the pregnancies. His genetics were failing, not your body."
The room tilted. Twelve years of guilt. Three years of grieving. The cold shoulder in bed. All of it was his fault. And Margaret had intercepted the results, hiding her precious son’s biological failure by blaming my body instead.
Then, Dr. Chen pulled out a second sheet of paper.
"We rushed your bloodwork from Friday," she said, her voice dropping to a gentle whisper. "Rebecca... your HCG levels are doubling perfectly. You are six weeks pregnant. And this one looks incredibly strong."
I stared at the numbers on the page.
May you like
Ethan had wanted a clean break. He had redirected the utilities. He had separated the bank accounts. He had legally severed himself from my life four hours before I found out I was carrying the miracle he said I could never give him.
I touched my stomach. He wanted out, I thought. So he stays out.
