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That night, the pregnant woman in the back seat leaned closer to him.
“Sweetheart.”
Mason stiffened.
She smiled.
“Do you two know each other?”
I looked into the mirror.
Mason’s eyes widened.
He shook his head slightly.
Almost imperceptibly.
A warning.
A plea.
Maybe both.
I answered before he could.
“No.”
Mason released a breath.
The woman smiled.
“Sorry.”
“You just looked at each other like you recognized each other.”
I kept my eyes on the road.
“Long night.”
She laughed.
“Tell me about it.”
Her phone rang.
She answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
That was how I learned her name.
“Chloe.”
She laughed.
“Yes, Chloe is being careful.”
“No, Mason won’t let me walk anywhere.”
My hands tightened.
Mason stared out the window.
Chloe continued talking.
“Yes.”
“We’re going straight to the hotel.”
“No.”
“We already ate.”
Then she looked at Mason.
A warm, affectionate look.
The kind I used to give him without thinking.
She ended the call.
Then sighed.
“My mother worries about everything.”
Mason murmured,
“She means well.”
The tone.
Soft.
Familiar.
Private.
My stomach turned.
Then Chloe pulled up something on her phone.
She tilted the screen toward him.
“Look.”
Mason barely glanced.
She smiled.
“This one is so clear.”
“The doctor said the heartbeat is absolutely perfect.”
The ultrasound image reflected faintly against the window.
Mason swallowed.
“That’s great.”
Chloe frowned.
“Just great?”
He forced a smile.
“No.”
“It’s amazing.”
She leaned against him.
I stared at the road.
Five years.
Birthdays.
Christmas mornings.
Sunday dinners with his parents.
Late-night movies.
Arguments.
Apologies.
Plans.
The first apartment we rented.
The first couch we bought.
The night my grandmother died and Mason sat on the bathroom floor with me until sunrise.
All of it suddenly existed beside another life.
One with ultrasound photographs.
One with a hotel.
One with a woman calling him sweetheart.
I should have stopped the car.
I should have screamed.
Instead, something in me became very cold.
I asked,
“How long have you two been married?”
The silence that followed was immediate.
Mason looked at me.
Chloe did not notice his panic.
She smiled brightly.
“Just a month.”
My fingers went numb.
“A month?”
“Yes.”
“Small ceremony.”
“Just family.”
She laughed.
“We didn’t want anything huge because I’m already exhausted all the time.”
I swallowed.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Then she continued.
“I live in Milwaukee.”
“Mason works here.”
“So we’ve been doing long-distance.”
“He drives up most weekends.”
My vision blurred for half a second.
Weekends.
For months, Mason had been leaving Friday evenings.
His mother’s house.
That was the story.
The roof needed work.
Then the bathroom.
Then the basement.
Then his father needed help.
Then his mother had medical appointments.
I paid almost all our rent during those months.
I covered utilities.
Internet.
Groceries.
Even his car insurance twice.
Because he said every extra dollar was going toward his parents.
I thought I was helping the man I loved take care of family.
Instead, I had been subsidizing a second marriage.
Chloe smiled at me through the mirror.
“Are you married?”
I looked at my left hand.
The diamond sparkled beneath the passing streetlights.
She noticed it.
“Oh.”
“That ring is gorgeous.”
Then she lifted her own hand.
My chest tightened.
Her ring looked familiar.
Very familiar.
Not identical.
Close.
Same shape.
Same simple band.
She laughed.
“Look.”
“Almost twins.”
Mason lowered his head.
I looked at the road.
“When are you getting married?”
Chloe asked.
I stared at the engagement ring.
Then said,
“I’m not.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
I swallowed.
“I just forgot to take the ring off.”
Mason closed his eyes.
Chloe shifted uncomfortably.
I could feel the atmosphere change.
Something inside her had noticed.
Not everything.
Enough.
The rest of the drive was almost silent.
I could hear the turn signal.
The heater.
Chloe’s occasional breathing.
Mason did not speak.
When we reached the Riverside Grand, a valet opened the rear door.
Chloe stepped out carefully.
Mason held her elbow.
Protective.
Gentle.
He did not look at me.
He did not tip.
He did not say goodnight.
He simply followed his pregnant wife into the hotel.
I drove away.
Three blocks later, I pulled into an underground parking garage.
I parked.
Turned off the engine.
Then sat there.
My hands started shaking.
Not a little.
Violently.
I looked at my phone.
Mason’s text was still there.
Working late at the office tonight.
Don’t wait up.
Breakfast tomorrow.
I opened our thread.
Typed.
You lying coward.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Five years and this is what you do?
Deleted.
Typed.
I hope she knows exactly what kind of man she married.
Deleted.
I stared at the screen for almost five minutes.
Then sent six words.
It’s over.
Pack your things and leave.
I took off the ring.
Placed it on the dashboard.
My finger looked strange without it.
Too pale.
An indentation around the skin.
The typing bubble appeared.
Mason is typing…
Then vanished.
Appeared again.
Vanished.
I laughed.
He had talked enough to marry another woman.
Now apparently words were difficult.
I started the engine.
Then movement caught my eye.
Someone was running through the garage entrance.
Mason.
He sprinted toward my car.
His shirt was untucked.
He looked terrified.
He pounded on the passenger window.
“Maya!”
I stared.
He pulled the door handle.
I had not locked it yet.
He opened the door.
“Maya, wait.”
“Get out.”
“Please.”
“Get out.”
“Just let me explain.”
I laughed.
“Explain what?”
He climbed halfway inside.
“Please.”
I stared at him.
“Explain how a misunderstanding married you?”
He flinched.
“Maya.”
“Explain how a misunderstanding is pregnant?”
“Maya.”
“Explain why your pregnant misunderstanding thinks you drive to Milwaukee every weekend because you’re her husband?”
He buried his face in his hands.
“It was a mistake.”
I actually smiled.
“A marriage?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Mason.”
“Listen to yourself.”
He looked up.
“I was drinking.”
I stared.
“What?”
“That night.”
“The first time.”
“I was drinking.”
I laughed.
“So alcohol forced you to keep seeing her?”
“No.”
“It got complicated.”
“How?”
“Her uncle helped my dad.”
My face tightened.
“What?”
“When Dad’s business went under.”
“He owed people.”
“Chloe’s uncle helped negotiate some of the debt.”
I said nothing.
Mason continued quickly.
“I met Chloe through him.”
“I didn’t plan anything.”
“It just happened.”
“And when she got pregnant, the family became involved.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
“They said I had to do the right thing.”
“So you married her.”
“Yes.”
“While engaged to me.”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
My chest hurt.
Then he whispered,
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
I laughed.
“Tell me?”
“I was scared.”
“Leave me?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
His eyes filled.
“Because I love you.”
I stared.
The audacity almost made me speechless.
Then I said,
“And while you were doing the right thing, I was driving until two in the morning to pay for our wedding.”
He winced.
“I know.”
“No.”
“You didn’t know.”
“You thought I drove occasionally.”
“I was doing five nights a week.”
His face changed.
“What?”
“I was saving for us.”
“Maya.”
“I paid the venue deposit.”
“I paid the photographer.”
“I paid the caterer hold.”
“I paid our rent when you said your money was helping your mother.”
“Maya.”
“And you were using weekends to play husband somewhere else.”
He started crying.
Real tears.
I felt nothing.
That scared me.
Then he said,
“I was going to sort everything out after the baby was born.”
I stared.
“Sort out what?”
He looked away.
“You.”
“Her.”
“Which wife gets Monday through Thursday?”
“Maya, stop.”
“No.”
“Which one?”
He slammed one hand against the dashboard.
“Stop!”
I went completely still.
So did he.
He immediately lowered his hand.
“I’m sorry.”
I picked up the ring.
Then threw it against his chest.
It bounced into his lap.
“Get out of my car.”
“Maya.”
“Get out.”
“Please.”
“I said get out.”
His face collapsed.
Then he stepped out.
I locked the door.
Pulled away.
He stood in the garage holding the ring.
I did not look back again.
