A Lie in the Name of Care

My health was not good, but I had always wanted a child.

My husband, citing concern for my health, avoided intimacy with me for a year.

Then I stumbled across his private messages with another woman.

[You'll spend Valentine's Day with me, right? You're not going to touch her tonight, are you?]

[You know I don't like doing it just to make babies. Got you some lingerie. Wear it for me tomorrow.]

That ill-fitting lace lingerie he was talking about was on my body. I'd slipped it on while he was in the shower, thinking it was a Valentine's Day surprise from him.

Turned out, he hadn't bought the wrong size. He had just sent it to the wrong address.

I clicked on the woman's profile. Her latest video showed her at the beach, hand in hand with the person filming.

I recognized her hand instantly. It belonged to my best friend.

...

The whispers of affection filled the room, soft and intimate.

Fury surged through me. I flung open the door, phone in hand, and began recording.

The camera's flash pierced the dimness, forcing the two figures to squint.

My husband, Dale Sparks, scrambled to cover himself with a blanket, his face draining of color. Panic flashed in his eyes. "Weren't you on a business trip? Did something go wrong at work?"

Even now, his first thought was whether I'd faltered at the job I poured my soul into for him.

I dug my nails into my palm, the sharp pain anchoring me as I fought to stay composed. "It's Valentine's Day. I've been working day and night to come home early and celebrate with you. I didn't expect this kind of gift."

I turned to Cecily Puckett, my best friend. Disappointment and rage crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Dale's betrayal after seven years of marriage stung, but Cecily's cut deeper.

We'd grown up together, our families bound by decades of friendship. She'd been my maid of honor.

"You said your husband can't have kids, so you went after mine?" I snapped. "When you were in his arms, did you ever think about our friendship?"

Dale's brows furrowed, irritation flickering in his eyes. He stepped protectively in front of her, retorting, "We've been married for years, and you can't bear a child. Cecily is doing us a favor, taking on the burden of pregnancy. It's tough, you know. Having her carry the baby is safer than some stranger, isn't it?"

Cecily clutched the blanket, hiding behind him with feigned fear. "Abigail, we promised we'd be godmothers to each other's kids, right? You can't have one, and my husband is no good either. This way, both our families get a child. You'd be the mom. Isn't that a win-win?"

That was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard.

My vision blurred with anger, my body trembling. Dale, still half-dressed, jumped out of bed to steady me.

I slapped his hand away, leaning against the wall. "Don't touch me!"

His face darkened, his voice shaking with barely contained anger. "You're rejecting me now? I never blamed you for your infertility. Have I ever let you down before this? And you know Cecily's husband can't perform. She is miserable. She is your best friend, but you don't care about her at all."