Chapter 5: The Baby in the Photograph
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t even blink.
The picture on my phone wasn’t blurry.
It wasn’t misunderstood.
It wasn’t something I could explain away.
There was Derek.
Standing outside a hospital.
Three weeks before my anniversary.
And beside him was a woman holding a newborn baby wrapped in a blanket.
My blanket.
The one my mother knitted before she died.
The one I had kept folded in a drawer for years, waiting for the day I would wrap my own child in it.
Except now, someone was showing me a picture of another baby wrapped in it.
My fingers shook.
“Emma?””
Rachel’s voice sounded far away.
“Emma, what is it?””
I couldn’t answer.
The taxi driver glanced at me through the mirror again.
This time, he looked worried.
I stared at the picture.
Zoomed in.
Then closer.
The woman’s face became clearer.
And my heart dropped.
Because I knew her.
Not well.
Not personally.
But enough.
Enough to recognize her.
Enough to know why Derek had been acting strange.
Enough to understand why someone wanted me to see this.
“That’s…”
My voice broke.
“Emma?””
I swallowed.
“That’s Lauren.””
Rachel went silent.
“Lauren who?””
I couldn’t look away from the screen.
“Lauren Hayes.””
Another pause.
Then:
“Derek’s coworker?””
“Yes.””
The word barely came out.
Lauren.
The woman Derek always described as “just someone from accounting.””
The woman who sent him work messages late at night.
The woman he defended when I asked why she seemed to know more about his schedule than I did.
“She’s holding a baby,” Rachel said.
“I know.””
“Do you know whose baby?””
I stared at the picture.
I wanted to say no.
I wanted to throw my phone away.
I wanted to believe this was some terrible misunderstanding.
But my body already knew.
My heart already knew.
And the worst part was…
Some small part of me had known for months.
“No,” I whispered.
Rachel heard the fear in my voice.
“Emma?””
“I don’t know.””
The taxi turned onto another road.
The city lights passed by.
But I was somewhere else.
Back in our house.
Back in our bedroom.
Back when I still believed my biggest problem was that Derek didn’t understand pregnancy.
I remembered the first time I met Lauren.
It was at Derek’s company holiday party two years earlier.
She had smiled at me.
Shook my hand.
And said:
“You’re lucky. Derek talks about you all the time.””
I remembered feeling proud.
I remembered thinking I had married a good man.
A loyal man.
A man who was proud of me.
Now I wondered what he had really been saying.
“Rachel,” I whispered.
“Yes?””
“Call Megan.””
“Why?””
“Because she knows.””
“How do you know?””
“Because she’s been trying to tell me something without saying it.””
Rachel was quiet.
Then I heard her dialing.
A few seconds later, someone answered.
“Hello?””
Megan’s voice.
Rachel put her on speaker.
“Emma’s here.””
There was a sharp inhale.
“Emma?””
I stared at the picture.
“Megan.””
“Yes?””
“Do you know Lauren Hayes?””
Silence.
A terrible, revealing silence.
My eyes closed.
“You do.””
Megan started crying.
“Emma…”
“No.””
My voice became harder.
“Don’t apologize. Don’t tell me you were trying to protect me. Just answer.””
Rachel stayed quiet.
Megan sniffed.
“Yes.””
“How long?””
“Emma…”
“How long have you known about her?””
“Since before the baby was born.””
The answer hit me.
Before the baby was born.
I looked down at my stomach.
My daughter.
The baby I had protected.
The baby I had carried while everyone around me knew pieces of a truth I didn’t.
“What baby is that?””
Megan didn’t answer.
“Megan.””
“I don’t know.””
My jaw tightened.
“You don’t know?””
“I saw the picture, but I don’t know the baby.””
“Then why are you crying?””
“Because I know what Derek did.””
The taxi stopped at a red light.
Outside, people walked past carrying umbrellas.
Normal people.
Living normal lives.
While mine was falling apart one secret at a time.
“What did he do?””
Megan’s voice dropped.
“Lauren had a baby six months ago.””
Six months.
The number echoed.
Six months ago, I was halfway through my pregnancy.
Six months ago, Derek had started changing.
Six months ago, he began staying late.
Six months ago, he stopped touching me.
My breathing became shallow.
“Is that Derek’s baby?””
Nobody spoke.
And somehow, that silence was the answer.
“Megan.””
“I don’t know.””
“Stop saying that.””
“I don’t know for sure.””
“What does that mean?””
“It means Derek never told me.””
I looked at the picture again.
“Then why send me this?””
“I didn’t.””
I froze.
“What?””
“I didn’t send you that photo.””
Rachel spoke.
“Then who did?””
No answer.
Megan sounded scared.
“Emma, listen to me.””
“I’m listening.””
“You need to be careful.””
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“Careful?””
“Yes.””
“Careful around who?””
Megan hesitated.
“Derek.””
The taxi started moving again.
I looked out the window.
The woman I trusted.
The man I married.
The family I thought I was building.
Everything had become a question.
“Why should I be careful?””
“Because Derek doesn’t handle losing control well.””
The words bothered me.
“What does that mean?””
“I mean he likes having a plan.””
I remembered the divorce papers.
The apartment.
The paternity test.
The lies.
“He had a plan,” I whispered.
“Yes.””
“And I wasn’t part of it.””
Megan didn’t answer.
I looked at Rachel.
She looked devastated.
Like she was seeing my pain but couldn’t stop it.
“Emma,” Megan said softly.
“What?””
“I need to tell you something.””
I almost laughed.
Another secret.
Another piece.
“Go ahead.””
“The night before your anniversary…”
I waited.
“Derek came to my house.””
My eyebrows pulled together.
“Why?””
“He asked me for advice.””
“About what?””
Megan’s voice cracked.
“About whether he should leave you.””
The world went quiet again.
I felt like I was watching my own life from outside my body.
“Leave me?””
“Yes.””
“Because of Lauren?””
“I don’t know.””
“Because of the baby?””
“I don’t know.””
“Then why?””
Megan cried quietly.
“Because he said he didn’t know if he still loved you.””
The words hurt.
But strangely…
Not as much as I expected.
Maybe because I had already mourned that version of him.
The husband who loved me.
The husband who chose me.
The husband who showed up.
“He asked me what to do,” Megan continued.
“What did you tell him?””
“I told him to stop being selfish.””
I looked at the phone.
“You defended me?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because the next morning, he changed.””
“What do you mean?””
“He came home with flowers.””
My chest tightened.
The anniversary.
The flowers.
The apology.
“He said he made a mistake?””
“Yes.””
I whispered:
“He said he realized what mattered.””
Megan was quiet.
“He lied.””
The taxi pulled into Rachel’s driveway.
I looked at the house.
The place where I could finally stop pretending.
The driver opened the door.
“Here you go.””
I paid him with trembling hands.
The fifteen dollars Derek gave me stayed untouched in my pocket.
I stepped out.
Rachel came running.
She hugged me carefully, avoiding my stomach.
And for the first time all night, I let myself break.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just a few tears.
The kind that come when your body finally realizes it has been surviving too long.
Rachel held me.
“I’m sorry.””
I shook my head.
“I don’t want apologies anymore.””
She pulled back.
“Then what do you want?””
I looked at the picture again.
At Derek.
At Lauren.
At the baby.
“I want the truth.””
Inside the house, Rachel helped me sit down.
Megan stayed on speaker.
Nobody spoke.
Then my phone buzzed.
Another unknown message.
This time, there was no photo.
Just text.
*You’re finally asking the right questions.*
My blood ran cold.
Rachel saw my face.
“What?””
I turned the screen toward her.
Another message appeared.
*But you’re still asking the wrong person.*
Then a final message came.
A name.
A name that made Rachel step back.
Because it wasn’t Derek.
It wasn’t Megan.
It wasn’t Lauren.
It was someone I trusted completely.
*Your sister knows exactly what happened that night.*
I looked at Rachel.
Her face had gone pale.
“Emma…”
May you like
My voice trembled.
“What aren’t you telling me?””
