It wasn't until later that I realized that I never told Marcus I was pregnant.
Not in those exact words. Not at all.
He agreed to send money, and I let him. I wanted to feel in control. Like he owed me.
And maybe he did.
But even now, with my body changing, with everything shifting under my skin, I hadn't said the words aloud: I'm pregnant.
The notification came in minutes after I hung up.
$25,000.00 USD – Incoming Transfer from M. Carter
A second later, a message.
Marcus:
I can't undo what I did. But I meant one thing,
I will take care of you for the rest of my life.
Please let me.
I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard, and then I locked my phone.
I didn't reply.
This wasn't about money. It never had been.
I took a long shower, dressed in the most comfortable jeans I owned, ones I didn't need to button anymore and tied a hoodie around my waist in case the shirt clung too much.
It was time to do what I had been avoiding: Go to the doctor. Get a real check-up. Open a file. Be a mother.
The receptionist was kind enough. She didn't give me that look, the one I feared. Just asked for my ID and medical history while clicking through her screen like I was any other woman walking in off the street.
Which I guess I was.
They scheduled an ultrasound. Standard procedure.
I laid back on the crisp paper of the exam table, the cold gel shocking me into awareness. The screen lit up, grainy and grey.
And then, there it was.
A heartbeat.
A shape.
A life. My baby.
Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes before I could stop them. The sonographer smiled softly but didn't say much. She printed the image and handed it to me.
Name: GINA ADELE
Estimated Due Date: February 28
Estimated Conception Date: June 8
The dates hit me like a gut punch.
The vacation weekend. Where we made love at every chance, any time and any place. We had the whole villa and beach to ourselves. It's only fitting that a baby come from that… it was sort of a comfort knowing that my baby was conceived in love- at least from my side and how he made me feel in those moments.
The last time I felt loved.
The last time I was his. When I still thought I mattered.
Walking out of that office, ultrasound in my handbag, I felt everything hit me at once:
The loneliness.
The betrayal.
The way I'd sat there smiling at the screen alone, trying not to sob. No partner.
No hand to hold.
No name to write down next to father.
I got home and pulled out the printout. Snapped a picture with my phone.
I stared at it for a long time. At the soft curve that would one day be a nose. The faint white halo where a heart was beating.
Then I opened our chat. I didn't write a message.
I didn't add a caption.
I simply attached the photo and hit send.
There was no satisfaction, no power. Just rawness. Just truth. Let him sit with that.
Let him see what he left behind.
The first message came in less than a minute later.
Marcus: Gina?
Then another. Then ten more.
Marcus: Is this real?
Gina please talk to me.
Are you okay?
You're pregnant?
With my child?
I silenced the notifications. Put the phone face down.Then came the missed calls. First one, then another. Back to back like clockwork.
He was spiraling. Good!
The last time I felt this hollow, I was watching him say "I do" to someone else.
Let him carry a fraction of the weight now.
I went to the kitchen and made tea. Rooibos and honey. Something warm. Something calming.
I didn't touch my phone again until it buzzed with a different name.
Tess.
I debated answering, but something told me she wouldn't be calling mid-shift unless it was urgent.
"Hello?" I answered, already bracing myself.
"Gina, what the actual hell did you do?"
I rolled my eyes and leaned against the counter. "Hello to you too."
"I'm serious! Marcus is losing his damn mind. He's blowing up my phone because you're not answering. Texts, missed calls, voice notes like I'm your handler or something!"
I said nothing. Just listened to her breathing heavy on the other end.
"He sent me a screenshot of the ultrasound," she continued. "He asked me if I knew where you were. He thinks I'm hiding you. He said, and I quote, 'If I have to hire private investigators, I will.' Girl, he's serious."
I sank onto the floor, legs folded beneath me. I rested the phone against my cheek.
"I didn't expect him to go nuclear," I whispered.
"Well, he did. This man is unhinged. You drop one bomb and now he's acting like you disappeared with the Holy Grail."
"I didn't even say anything. Just the photo." I say.
"That was something, Gina," Tess said gently. "You've been silent for weeks, then boom! Some baby proof. He's spiraling."
"Good," I muttered, and meant it. "Let him feel what it's like to want answers and not get them. Let him wonder where I am. Let him worry."
Tess was quiet for a beat.
"You're still hurt."
"I'm still bleeding," I said. "There's a difference.