Chapter 3

3.

When the call connected and my father heard me say I wanted a divorce, he went quiet for a moment.

About half a minute passed before he ventured, carefully.

"Sweetheart, what happened? Is it that Preston boy…"

"Dad, I've thought it through."

I didn't let him finish the question, keeping my voice as steady as I could.

"He brought the nanny into my hospital room. I think she's carrying his child. He told me to give up the room, and he even wanted the premium supplements my best friend brought me handed over for her to drink."

His breathing turned heavy, and then he said,

"You wait right there. I'll take the earliest train out tomorrow."

"You don't need to come. Just find me a lawyer, and change the hospital's emergency contact to you."

My father said only one thing.

"All right. I'll take care of it."

After I hung up, I sat with it a while, and the tightness in my chest eased a little.

I went downstairs, thinking I'd buy some fruit at the supermarket outside the hospital.

I'd just reached the door of the fruit shop when I saw Preston.

He was standing in the baby-goods store next door, Millicent beside him.

The two of them stood very close, and he was holding up a little baby outfit, pushing it toward her face.

"Look how cute. Our baby would look adorable in this."

Millicent gave him a light push, her voice all coy.

"That's too expensive, over eight hundred for one piece. Babies grow so fast, they can't wear it more than a few days."

Preston laughed and tucked the outfit against his chest.

"Expensive, nothing. My son's worth whatever he wears. Only a brand like this is good enough for my boy."

Millicent flushed, ducked her head with a pressed-lip smile, then tilted her face up and asked,

"So did you ever buy anything for your wife's baby?"

The smile on Preston's face faded for a beat, then he curled his lip, indifferent.

"Her? She's got a girl in there. What's the point of buying anything?"

Millicent let out a soft little cry and leaned into his shoulder.

"Then I really am lucky, a big healthy boy first try."

I was standing behind the fruit shop's sign, and rage darkened my vision.

Three months ago, I'd passed this same baby store and seen the very same outfit in the window. I'd taken a photo and sent it to him, asking if we could buy one once the baby was born.

He sent back a voice message, his tone impatient.

"Over eight hundred? A baby just needs some cotton thing for twenty, thirty bucks. Look at what you make. Stop wasting your head on pointless stuff all day."

Back then I thought money was tight at home, and I even blamed myself for days, feeling like I didn't know how to run a household.

So it turned out it was never about the price. He just thought I wasn't worth it.

I was holding the oranges I'd just picked out, about to turn and leave, when Millicent suddenly came around from the side and planted herself right in front of me.

There wasn't a trace of the fragile act left on her face.

"You saw all that just now, didn't you? He bought me an eight-hundred-dollar outfit without blinking."

She glanced at my belly, her smile deepening.

"By the way, just so you know, every shopping card and maternity bonus his company handed out these past few months went straight onto my card. He said your workplace has good benefits, so you don't need the little bit."

Then she looked at the oranges in my hand and tossed off a line, airy.

"I only eat imported oranges. The domestic ones are sour. They make me nauseous."

Then she turned and walked away.

My legs went a little weak, and I had to steady myself against a nearby power pole for a while before it passed.

Six months ago I'd told Preston my workplace had given me a three-thousand-dollar maternity bonus, and that I wanted to buy some good prenatal supplements.

He said money was tight at home, that I should just save it for now and not touch it, and we'd talk after the baby came.

I believed him, and handed the bonus card over to him.

So all that money had gone straight into someone else's pocket.

I looked down at the domestic oranges in my hand, put them back on the shelf, and dialed my best friend.