A Child That’s Not Mine

I failed to conceive for the first three years of marriage.

Under my husband’s persuasion, I gave in vitro fertilization a try and finally hit the jackpot after two years.

At eight months pregnant, I overheard a conversation between my husband, Jonah Sawyer, and his best friend.

“You gave Chelsea contraceptive pills for three years just to make her believe she was infertile, using her desperation to force her into IVF, all so you could implant Lucy’s egg into her body. You’re cold, man!” Jonah seemed indifferent.

“Being pregnant not only changes a woman’s body but also means enduring extreme pain during childbirth. I’d never put Luce through that.”

I looked at the calculated man I called husband and unhesitatingly called the hospital to book an appointment.

“Hello, I’d like to schedule an abortion.” … Zachary Nelson looked at Jonah with mockery.

“What happens when Chelsea finds out? Won’t she go crazy? I mean, who would want to raise someone else’s kid, right? Especially after carrying it for ten whole months—only to find out it’s not even hers.”

“She’s too dumb to find out about anything. Besides, so what if she does? It’s not like she can abort the baby at eight months. And don’t get me started on her disgusting body. Who else but me would want her?”