Chapter 3: The Best Friend's Secret
Daniel read the message without moving.
For a few seconds, I thought he might throw the phone against the wall.
Instead, he sat down slowly and placed it on the desk.
“Read that again,” he said.
I leaned over his shoulder.
Whatever you think you know, don't believe her when she tells you the baby was yours.
The words seemed to rearrange the entire afternoon.
The fake pregnancy was already a betrayal.
But Marcus's message suggested something worse.
Daniel picked up the phone and typed a response.
*Daniel:* What does that mean?
The reply came almost immediately.
*Marcus:* I can't explain this over text.
*Daniel:* Then call me.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then Marcus sent one final message.
*Marcus:* Don't confront Claire until you've seen what's in her desk.
Daniel stood so quickly that his chair rolled backward.
“What desk?”” I asked.
“Our home office. She keeps all the paperwork there.””
“Daniel, don't do anything stupid.””
He looked at me.
“What exactly do you think I should do? Go back into that restaurant and pretend my wife hasn't spent months lying to me?””
“No. I think you should get the truth before you make a decision.””
He stared at his phone.
Then he called Marcus.
The call rang six times before going to voicemail.
Daniel tried again.
Nothing.
He sent another message.
*Daniel:* If you have something to tell me, tell me now.
No answer came.
I watched my brother struggle to breathe normally.
“Let's go home,” I said.
“You can look through the office, and I'll take Sophie back to my house.””
He nodded without looking at me.
When we returned to the dining room, the baby shower had disintegrated.
Several guests had left. The remaining relatives stood in small, uncomfortable groups, whispering beneath the decorations. Someone had covered the baby cake with a white cloth.
Claire was nowhere to be seen.
Our mother approached us.
“Where is she?””
“Gone,” Daniel said.
“Gone where?””
“I don't know.””
My mother pressed her fingers to her lips.
“Oh, Daniel.””
He looked at the wooden sign behind the dessert table.
Baby Carter Arriving Soon.
He walked toward it, grabbed the edge, and pulled it off its stand.
The sign crashed onto the floor.
A few guests gasped.
I caught his arm.
“Daniel.””
He shook his head.
“I'm sorry.””
“You don't have to apologize to me.””
He looked down at the sign.
“I bought that two months ago.””
His voice was so quiet that I almost didn't hear him.
“I spent an hour choosing the font.””
I squeezed his shoulder.
He took one final look at the room and walked outside.
I collected Sophie and followed him.
She was holding a blue cupcake in both hands.
“Mommy, can Uncle Daniel have my cupcake?””
I looked at my brother standing beside his truck.
“Yes, sweetheart. I think he'd like that.””
She ran toward him.
“Uncle Daniel!””
He turned.
Sophie held up the cupcake.
“You can have this one.””
Daniel stared at it.
Then he crouched and pulled her into his arms.
For the first time that afternoon, he cried.
Not the kind of crying adults do when they are trying to remain dignified. His shoulders shook, and he pressed his face against Sophie's little cardigan while she patted his back.
“It's okay,” she whispered.
“You can have my cupcake.””
I looked away.
Somewhere inside me, I was furious with Claire.
But watching Daniel hold my daughter, I felt something heavier than anger.
Grief.
He had already loved a child who had never existed.
And now he had to figure out what remained of the life he thought he had.
We arrived at Daniel's house shortly after six.
The neighborhood was quiet, the lawns freshly mowed, and the windows of his two-story brick home glowing in the early evening light.
Everything looked ordinary.
That was the cruelest part.
The house still looked like a place where a happy couple was preparing for a baby.
A tiny blue wreath hung on the front door. A pair of miniature sneakers sat on the entryway table. A stack of unopened children's books rested beside the stairs.
Daniel unlocked the door and walked inside.
He stopped in the hallway.
The rocking chair stood near the window.
Beside it sat a basket filled with soft blankets.
He had spent the previous weekend assembling the crib. I remembered him sending me a photograph of it, beaming so broadly that I had teased him about becoming one of those fathers who posted pictures of every diaper change.
Now he walked into the nursery and stood beside the empty crib.
He touched the wooden rail.
“I bought this because Dad used to say every child deserved a safe place to sleep.””
I stood in the doorway.
“Daniel…”
“I called him the first time I saw the nursery finished. I know he wasn't alive, but I still called his old number.””
He gave a small, broken laugh.
“I told him he was going to have a grandson.””
My eyes filled.
He turned away from the crib.
“I'm going to find out everything.””
He walked downstairs and entered the home office.
The room smelled faintly of leather and printer paper. Daniel's desk stood beneath a framed photograph of him and Marcus at their college graduation. Shelves lined the walls, filled with financial records, tax documents, and business contracts.
A smaller desk stood near the window.
Claire's.
She used it for household paperwork and personal correspondence. A cream-colored notebook lay beside a cup of pens. Her laptop sat closed beneath a stack of magazines.
Daniel pulled out the chair and began opening drawers.
The first contained stationery and receipts.
The second held insurance documents and bank statements.
The third was locked.
He stared at it.
“Do you have a key?”” I asked.
“No.””
He tried the handle again.
“Claire keeps a key ring in the kitchen drawer.””
He left the room and returned with a small silver key.
The lock clicked.
Inside the drawer sat a manila folder, a black notebook, and a small envelope.
Daniel took out the folder first.
The documents inside were arranged in neat chronological order.
At the top was a printout of an online order for the artificial pregnancy belly.
The purchase date was five months earlier.
Daniel looked at the date.
“Five months.””
He set it down and opened the black notebook.
The first page contained a list of baby names.
Noah.
Ethan.
Lucas.
Beneath them were notes about nursery colors, possible due dates, and names of pediatricians.
It looked like the notebook of an expectant mother.
Then Daniel turned another page.
A line had been written in thick black ink.
If Daniel starts asking about the ultrasound, say the doctor couldn't get a clear image.
On the next page:
If he asks about appointments, tell him they were moved because of scheduling problems.
Then:
Do not let him speak to the doctor directly.
Daniel lowered the notebook.
“Jesus Christ.””
I felt sick.
He turned another page.
Possible explanation for no heartbeat: early loss.
And beneath it, in smaller writing:
Wait until after the anniversary dinner. Better if his family is attached to the baby by then.
I covered my mouth.
Claire hadn't simply panicked and bought a fake stomach.
She had planned the lie.
She had written instructions to herself, anticipating Daniel's questions and deciding how to manipulate his emotions.
Daniel flipped through the remaining pages, his face growing paler with every line.
Then he found the envelope.
Inside was a folded sheet of paper bearing the name of a medical clinic.
At the top, someone had written a date and time.
Below it was a note.
Marcus said he can arrange the appointment.
Daniel looked up.
“What appointment?””
I shook my head.
He read the page again.
Then he pulled a second document from the envelope.
It was a printed email.
The sender's name was Marcus Reed.
The subject line read:
*We need to finish this before Daniel finds out.*
Daniel opened the email.
The message was short.
Claire, you promised me this would be over before the baby shower. I can't keep covering for you. If Daniel finds out what really happened, we're both finished.
There was no signature.
There didn't need to be one.
Daniel sank into the chair.
I stood behind him, staring at the screen.
“What does he mean by what really happened?””
Daniel didn't answer.
He was looking at the date of the email.
It had been sent three months earlier.
Three months before the baby shower.
Three months before Sophie had ever seen the fake stomach.
Three months before Daniel had started telling everyone he was going to be a father.
Then he opened the small envelope again and found a photograph.
It showed Claire sitting on a park bench beside Marcus.
They weren't holding hands.
They weren't kissing.
But Marcus had his arm around her shoulders, and Claire was leaning against him with her eyes closed.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
Daniel stared at it.
“That was the weekend she told me she had her first prenatal appointment.””
I felt a chill run down my arms.
He turned the photograph over again.
Then he noticed something in the corner of the picture.
A small white hospital wristband lay across Claire's lap.
Daniel zoomed in on the image with his phone.
The wristband had a date printed on it.
And beneath the date was a word that changed everything.
Emergency.
He looked at me.
“I need to know what happened that weekend.””
His phone vibrated again.
This time, Marcus was calling.
Daniel answered immediately.
“Tell me the truth.””
Marcus's voice came through the speaker, low and unsteady.
“Daniel, I'm sorry.””
“Sorry for what?””
A long silence followed.
Then Marcus said, “Claire wasn't the only person who lied to you.””
Daniel's grip tightened around the phone.
“What does that mean?””
“I need you to listen before you do anything.””
“Start talking.””
Marcus exhaled shakily.
“The pregnancy wasn't real. You know that now. But the reason she started pretending…”
He stopped.
“Marcus!””
“I didn't know she was going to use the fake stomach at first. I swear to you, I didn't.””
Daniel looked at me.
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Use it for what?”” Daniel demanded.
Marcus didn't answer directly.
Instead, he asked, “Did you find the hospital wristband?””
Daniel glanced at the photograph.
“Yes.””
“Then you need to know that Claire really was at a hospital that weekend.””
Daniel went completely still.
“What happened?””
Marcus's voice cracked.
“She wasn't there for a pregnancy appointment.””
“Then why was she there?””
Another silence.
Finally, Marcus whispered, “Because I took her there.””
Daniel's face went white.
“Why?””
Marcus began to cry.
May you like
And then he said the one thing my brother would never have been prepared to hear.
“Because Claire told me she was pregnant with my child first.””
