She entered my office smiling.
After introducing herself, she glanced at the nameplate on my desk.
“Vanessa?”
“Yes. How can I help you?”
She crossed her legs and studied me for a moment.
“So you’re Roy’s wife.”
My fingers stopped moving over the keyboard.
“I’m sorry?”
“Roy. Your husband.”
I kept my expression neutral. “How do you know my husband?”
Her smile widened.
“Because I’m pregnant with his baby.”
For a few seconds, I couldn’t hear anything except the soft hum of the ultrasound machine beside my desk.
I had spent years helping women through difficult pregnancies. I had comforted frightened patients, delivered difficult news gently, and held the hands of women who had nobody else beside them.
But nothing in my professional training prepared me for hearing another woman announce that my husband had fathered her child.
I forced myself to breathe.
“How long have you been seeing him?”
