As though betrayal fell through the ceiling and landed on them.
I stared at him.
“How long?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Almost a year.”
“We didn’t mean for it to happen.”
I was pregnant with our fifth child, with four children upstairs, and almost a year of Ryan’s lies suddenly had one name attached to them.
Lina.
***
I filed for divorce.
Ryan moved out.
Lina stopped calling me.
And somehow, I became the person everyone expected to behave gracefully.
I was pregnant with our fifth child, with four children upstairs.
My father said, “You can’t force a man to stay where he isn’t happy.”
My mother kept reminding me Lina was still my sister.
Then I lost the baby.
There was no dramatic scene.
No doctor blaming stress.
No neat explanation that made the timing easier to live with.
“You can’t force a man to stay where he isn’t happy.”
One day I was still carrying my child.
Then I wasn’t.
I went home from the hospital with empty arms and four children asking when the baby would come back.
Ryan cried when I told him.
He said, “I’m so sorry.”
I hung up.
I went home from the hospital with empty arms and four children asking when the baby would come back.
