Chapter 3: The Secret Hidden Before My Daughter Was Born
For three seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
The taxi driver stood beside the open trunk, waiting for me to put my bag inside.
The rain poured around us.
My baby moved beneath my ribs.
And all I could hear was Megan’s voice through the phone.
“Emma… you need to know who the baby’s father really is.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What did you just say?””
The line went quiet.
Not the quiet of someone who didn’t know what to say.
The quiet of someone who was afraid of saying too much.
“Megan,” I said.
“Explain.””
“I should have told you months ago.””
My heart pounded.
“Told me what?””
Another pause.
Then she whispered:
“Derek knows.””
The words hit harder than the contraction that followed.
I grabbed the side of the taxi for support.
The driver immediately stepped closer.
“Are you okay?””
I couldn’t answer him.
Because suddenly I wasn’t standing in the rain outside my house.
I was back in every moment I had questioned.
Every strange look.
Every unexplained absence.
Every time Derek acted like my pregnancy was something happening to him instead of something we were experiencing together.
“Megan,” I said slowly.
“Are you telling me Derek isn’t the father?””
“No.””
Her answer came too quickly.
Too firmly.
I froze.
“What?””
“He is the father.””
I closed my eyes.
My knees almost gave out.
“Then what are you talking about?””
Megan started crying.
Actually crying.
The sound was so unexpected that for a second I forgot how angry I was.
“Emma, I’m sorry.””
“Sorry for what?””
“I found something.””
“What did you find?””
“I found out Derek has been hiding something from you.””
My patience snapped.
“Everyone keeps saying that. Rachel says he’s hiding things. You say he’s hiding things. Nobody will just tell me the truth.””
“Because I didn’t know how to tell you.””
“Try.””
The rain dripped from my hair onto my face.
“Try.””
Megan breathed shakily.
“Derek had a paternity test done.””
I felt the world become silent.
“What?””
“Before the baby was born.””
My hand moved protectively over my stomach.
“Why?””
“I don’t know.””
“Why would he do that?””
“I found the paperwork.””
The contraction faded.
But the fear stayed.
“Where?””
“At his house.””
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because my husband had spent months making me feel like I was imagining things.
And now his own sister was telling me she had found evidence.
“You were at our house?””
“No.””
Her voice became smaller.
“Derek’s apartment.””
I went still.
“Apartment?””
Another secret.
Another crack in the life I thought I understood.
“What apartment?””
Megan didn’t answer.
“Megan.””
“Emma, please listen to me.””
“No.””
My voice shook.
“I’m done listening to half-truths.””
The taxi driver looked away politely, pretending not to hear.
But I didn’t care anymore.
“I deserve the whole truth.””
Megan took a deep breath.
“Derek rented an apartment downtown four months ago.””
My stomach dropped.
Four months.
That was when he started coming home late.
That was when he started sleeping in the guest room, claiming my pregnancy pillows were uncomfortable.
That was when he started saying he needed “space.””
“Who was he staying there with?””
Silence.
“Megan.””
“Emma…”
“Who?””
Her voice broke.
“No one.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
“It means I don’t think he was living there with someone.””
“Then why rent an apartment?””
“I don’t know.””
I looked back at my house.
Our house.
The place where I had painted the nursery.
The place where I had folded tiny clothes and imagined our family.
“How did you find out?””
Megan sniffed.
“I went there because I needed to talk to him.””
“Why?””
“Because I knew something was wrong.””
I almost laughed.
“So you knew?””
“I suspected.””
“While I was sitting at home wondering if my husband even cared about me, you suspected?””
“I’m sorry.””
“No.””
The word came out quietly.
But firmly.
“I don’t need your apology yet.””
Megan went silent.
I looked at the taxi.
The baby.
The rain.
Everything was moving forward.
Except my mind.
“Tell me about the test.””
Megan hesitated.
“Emma…”
“Tell me.””
“He had it done at a private clinic.””
“When?””
“Two weeks ago.””
Two weeks.
I counted backward.
Two weeks ago was the day Derek had come home with flowers.
The first time in months he had been affectionate.
The first time he had touched my stomach and said:
“I can’t wait to meet our little girl.””
I remembered smiling.
I remembered thinking maybe he had finally changed.
Maybe becoming a father had finally become real to him.
Now I wondered.
Was it guilt?
Was it fear?
Was it because he already knew something?
“Did he get the results?””
“I don’t know.””
“You found the paperwork.””
“Yes.””
“Then you saw it.””
Megan started crying harder.
“Emma…”
“What did it say?””
The silence lasted so long that I knew.
Before she spoke.
I knew.
“The results said there was a ninety-nine point nine percent probability…”
My heart stopped.
“Probability of what?””
“That Derek is the biological father.””
I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
For a moment, relief came.
Then confusion.
“Then why would he hide it?””
“I don’t know.””
“You called me saying I needed to know who the father was.””
“I know.””
“But he is.””
“I know.””
My voice became sharper.
“Then what aren’t you telling me?””
Megan didn’t answer.
And that was when I understood.
There was another piece.
Another secret.
“What did you see, Megan?””
Nothing.
“Megan.””
“I saw the date.””
“What date?””
“The date the test was ordered.””
I waited.
“It was ordered before Derek told you he was happy about the baby.””
I didn’t understand.
“What does that mean?””
Her voice dropped.
“It means he had doubts before you ever knew he had doubts.””
I looked at my reflection in the dark window of my house.
A woman standing alone.
Pregnant.
Abandoned.
Trying to understand a man who had spent months pretending everything was normal.
“Emma?””
I whispered.
“I’m here.””
“There’s something else.””
Of course there was.
There was always something else.
“What?””
“I found another document.””
My body went tense.
“What document?””
“A divorce agreement.””
The rain sounded louder.
My fingers went cold.
“A what?””
“Derek had a lawyer prepare divorce papers.””
I stared at the house.
The lights were still on.
The kitchen window glowed warmly.
The same kitchen where he left fifteen dollars for a taxi.
“When?””
“Three weeks ago.””
Three weeks.
The same night I called Rachel.
The same night Derek forgot our anniversary.
The same night he told me I was being emotional.
“He was planning to leave me?””
“I don’t know.””
“Megan.””
“I don’t know if he planned to leave or if he was just preparing.””
I laughed softly.
A broken sound.
“Preparing?””
“Yes.””
“Preparing for what?””
She didn’t answer.
And I knew.
She was afraid.
Not of Derek.
Of what the answer meant.
“Megan, tell me.””
Finally, she spoke.
“He was preparing in case the baby wasn’t his.””
I looked down at my stomach.
My daughter.
The baby I had carried.
The baby whose heartbeat I heard before anyone else.
The baby I protected before anyone else.
And my husband had spent months preparing an escape route.
Not for us.
From us.
The taxi driver cleared his throat gently.
“Ma’am, we really should get going. You look like you’re close.””
I nodded.
Because he was right.
My baby didn’t care about betrayal.
She didn’t care about secrets.
She just knew it was time.
I opened the taxi door.
“Megan.””
“Yes?””
“I’m going to Pittsburgh.””
“I know.””
“I’m not coming back tonight.””
“I know.””
I paused.
Then asked the question that had been burning inside me.
“Did Derek know you found out?””
Megan didn’t answer.
That was enough.
“Megan.””
“He knows I know something.””
My hand froze on the door.
“How?””
“He called me before you.””
My stomach twisted.
“What did he say?””
Her voice became a whisper.
“He asked me if I had talked to you.””
The rain stopped suddenly.
Not slowly.
Not gradually.
Just stopped.
And somehow that scared me more.
Because it meant there was no more hiding behind the storm.
“What did you tell him?””
“I lied.””
“Why?””
“Because for the first time in years, I realized I had been protecting the wrong person.””
I got into the taxi.
The driver closed the door.
As we pulled away from the house, I watched the place disappear through the rain-covered window.
The home I had fought for.
The marriage I had defended.
The future I had believed in.
My phone buzzed.
A message.
From Derek.
Even though I had blocked him.
A message from another number.
Unknown.
*You need to ask Rachel why she never told you about the night your baby was conceived.*
My blood ran cold.
I looked at the screen.
Then at Megan’s name still open on my phone.
Another secret.
Another person hiding something.
And this time…
May you like
It wasn’t about Derek.
It was about me.
