Chapter 3 - The Ghost at the Table"Answer me," I demanded, stepping right up to the edge of Emily's bed. The monitor beeped faster, echoing the frantic rhythm of my own pulse. "Who is the father? Is it someone from that bar you go to? A coworker? Who?"
Emily didn't answer. She just kept her eyes squeezed shut, shaking her head in a pathetic, rhythmic motion.
"Emily!" I slammed my hand down on the metal guardrail of the bed. The metal clanged loudly. "You are going to tell me right now, or I swear to God I will walk out of this hospital, pack every single one of your things into trash bags, and throw them off the interstate bridge!"
"It’s not a stranger, Beth," Emily sobbed, her voice breaking into a jagged wail.
"Then name him!"
"It's... it's Mark."
The name hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled backward, my hip slamming into the bedside tray and sending a plastic cup clattering across the floor.
Mark.
My brain stuttered, refusing to process the syllable.
Mark was my best friend Sarah’s husband? No.
Mark from accounting? No.
My mind raced through every Mark we knew until it landed on the only one that mattered.
"Mark..." I whispered, the name tasting like poison in my mouth. "Mark... our neighbor? Mark from down the street? The one we had barbecues with every Sunday? The one who helped us build the backyard deck?"
Emily buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently.
I turned slowly to look at Ryan. He still hadn't looked up. His silence was a confession more damning than any words could ever be.
"You knew," I whispered, looking at my husband. "You knew about Mark and Emily?"
"Not at first," Ryan finally spoke, his voice rough, like broken glass grinding together. "I found out three months ago. I caught them talking in the alley behind my office. Mark was telling her he wouldn't leave his family, that she needed to get rid of it. Emily was crying. That was the night I 'worked late,' Beth. That was the night I found out."
A cold, numbness crept outward from my chest, freezing my fingers and toes.
"And instead of telling your wife—instead of telling me that my sister was carrying our married, cheating neighbor's baby—you kept it a secret?" I laughed, a high, manic sound that made the nurse outside look through the glass window with alarm. "What were you guys doing? Having secret summit meetings in parking lots? Planning out Emily's prenatal vitamins together?"
"Beth, stop it," Ryan pleaded, finally lifting his head. His eyes were bloodshot and raw. "Mark threatened her. He threatened to ruin her life, to take the baby away, to destroy everything. Emily was terrified. She came to me because she had nowhere else to turn. I helped her find this doctor. I helped her pay for the initial scans because Mark cut her off completely the moment she refused to have an abortion."
"An abortion," I repeated.
My gaze shifted back to Emily.
"You wanted to abort it?" I asked.
"At first," Emily whispered behind her hands. "When I realized what a monster Mark was... yes. I wanted it gone. But then... then I felt him kick. And I couldn't do it."
"So you decided to have a baby with a married man who threatened you, and you used my husband as your personal co-pilot through the whole thing?"
I looked between the two of them. The two people in this world I trusted more than my own life. They had shared a secret world right beneath my nose, whispering behind closed doors, managing a crisis while I sat at home baking cookies and crying over empty nursery rooms.
"You lied to me every single day," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper. "Every time Ryan kissed me goodbye in the morning, he was checking on my sister's pregnancy. Every time he held me at night, he knew."
"Beth, I love you," Ryan said, taking a desperate step toward me.
"Don't you dare," I hissed, raising a hand to stop him. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. Love doesn't look like this. Love doesn't build a monument of lies."
I turned toward the door, my chest heaving, the walls of the hospital room closing in.
May you like
"Where are you going?" Emily cried out.
"Away from both of you," I said without looking back. "And as for that baby in the NICU—you can take him home, Ryan. Just like you promised. Because I am done."
