Eight months pregnant, I walked in on my husband, the boy I'd grown up with, in bed with the woman who'd been my closest friend for ten years.

"Babe, we're just friends, we only shared a bed, don't make a scene."

My husband coaxed me, exasperated, expecting me to break down and demand answers the way I always had.

My best friend chimed in, breezy as ever: "Come on, you're the only one who can stand how badly he sleeps. He's not my type at all."

But I only calmly took out the divorce papers I'd disguised as a real-estate contract, held them out to Elijah Delgado, and said,

"Sign it."

They had no idea I'd already decided to keep the baby and cut off the father.

Once, everyone envied me. They said Elijah, my childhood sweetheart, had doted on me for twenty years, that I would always be his number one.

But no one knew that in barely a year of marriage, he'd abandoned me three separate times for Jeanette Gomez.

The first time, my pregnancy grew unstable partway through our honeymoon and I needed to rest, so he left me behind and finished the entire honeymoon that was supposed to be ours with Jeanette instead.

The second time, my morning sickness got so bad I ended up in the ER, and he still left me to go stand up for Jeanette, who was fighting through a divorce.

The third time, Jeanette drank herself sick late one night. I watched with my own eyes as she kissed Elijah, and my husband didn't push her away. He gathered her up and carried her off, leaving me alone in that bar.

Three abandonments in a row, and my heart was finally dead.

I was done with my best friend. And with my husband too.

1

Eight months pregnant, I walked in on my childhood-sweetheart husband and my best friend of ten years waking up in the same bed.

They thought I'd fall apart and interrogate them the way I always had.

"Sign it."

Everyone envied me. They thought that after twenty years of growing up with Elijah, I was spoiled like a princess, always first in his heart.

But no one knew that after only a year of marriage, Elijah had abandoned me three separate times for Jeanette.

The first time, he left me behind while my pregnancy was fragile and went with Jeanette to every single place we'd planned for our honeymoon.

I was so furious I checked into the hospital and demanded a divorce.

He knelt by my hospital bed all night, eyes red, swearing he would never leave me behind again.

Jeanette cried too, saying she'd just never been abroad and didn't want to waste the tickets they'd already booked.

For the sake of all those years between us, my heart softened in the end and I forgave them both.

The second time, my morning sickness turned severe. I was rushed into the ER and nearly lost the baby.

But he left me without a second thought and went to back up Jeanette, who was fighting with her husband.

I cried so hard I wanted to end the pregnancy, and Elijah, eyes rimmed red, took three slaps from me and said,

"Jeanette's your best friend. I only went to help her because I was afraid you'd worry after the procedure and it'd be bad for your body."

With the Delgado elders pressing me, I pushed my disappointment down and told myself: never again.

Then came the third time. After her divorce, Jeanette drank herself sick late at night and clung to Elijah, sobbing for him to come get her.

I went along, eight months pregnant, only to see Jeanette push right past me, throw herself into Elijah's arms, and kiss him.

Elijah didn't push her off. He sank into it.

I was shaking all over, my voice going shrill.

"Elijah, she's drunk, but are you out of your mind too?!"

He came back to himself, flustered.

"Jeanette had too much to drink and she's acting out, that's all. I'm a victim here too."

I looked down at his body and let out a broken laugh, tears spilling before I could stop them.

"A victim? Then why did your body react to her?"

The color drained from Elijah's face in an instant.

Right then, Jeanette knocked a bottle off the table by accident. It shattered, and a shard sliced her palm, blood dripping down between her fingers.

Her eyes were bleary with drink, but she still stepped in front of me.

"Beryl Simmons, did Elijah hurt you? I'll teach him a lesson for you."

Elijah's face changed. He shoved me aside, bent down and lifted the bleeding Jeanette into his arms, and strode out.

"Beryl, you have such a filthy mind. Can you stop imagining the two of us doing something so disgusting?"

"Jeanette's in a bad place after her divorce, and it's not right to bother you while you're pregnant, so she keeps coming to me for help. Once she's past the worst of the divorce, we'll go back to how we always were."

I hadn't braced for it, and I hit the cold edge of the bar table, a sharp pain tearing through my belly, my breath going ragged.

Scared, I reached out to catch hold of Elijah.

But he didn't spare me a single glance.

It felt like someone had gouged a bloody hole straight through my heart, and I sank to the floor, unable to hold myself up.

My filthy mind? Disgusting?

My husband and my best friend had kissed, his body had responded to her, and we could just go back to how we always were?

Back to how it was when Elijah had eyes only for me, when he'd report in to me before even being alone with Jeanette?

Or back to when the two of them couldn't stand the sight of each other?

Could we ever go back?

The love wasn't pure anymore. Neither was the friendship.

I didn't want either one.

Once the pain eased, I called my lawyer to discuss the divorce, and even holding the divorce papers, I still felt lost.

More than twenty years of feeling, two people as much a part of me as my own flesh and blood. How could that just be cut off with a word?

But when I got home and saw Elijah and Jeanette lying in the same bed, that little bit of lostness was swept away by the cold.

"Sign it. It's the house in the good school district, I picked it out."

I pushed Elijah to sign the fake divorce papers.

Maybe it was guilt. He didn't even read the contract, just signed.

"Beryl, let me explain. I bandaged her wound last night, I was exhausted, I fell straight asleep. Nothing happened."

Jeanette smiled too, the picture of innocence.

"Exactly, Beryl. Don't go dreaming things up."

Then she frowned and complained.

"Though, Elijah, you really are a terrible sleeper. You crowded me all night long. Beryl, how did you put up with this all these years?"

Elijah scoffed and shot back,

"You're the one who got drunk and thrashed around, didn't settle down all night, and you've got the nerve to blame me?"

"Beryl loves me the most. Quit trying to stir things up."

The two of them bickered like they always had.

Neither of them even noticed the new tenderness that had crept into their words.

It felt like a hand kneading my chest to pieces over and over.

All I could do was bite down hard on my lip, forcing it back, so the tears wouldn't fall right then and there.

Holding the signed divorce papers, I didn't want to look at either of them another second. I went straight upstairs to pack.

Only once I started did I realize how much of it there was, all the things tied to Elijah and Jeanette. So much.

After all, one was the boy I'd known since I was five, and the other the friend I'd had since our last year before high school.

Among those things, three had once meant everything to me.

The first was a high school graduation photo of just the three of us.

We all looked so young in it. In the picture, Elijah was looking down at me, his eyes full of love and warmth.

And Jeanette had her arm hooked through mine, laughing without a care.

By then we'd all gotten into the same college and sworn we'd never be apart again.

The second was a hand-sewn lucky charm.

The year of the pandemic, I got infected and ran a high fever.

They'd heard somewhere that a handmade charm could keep a person safe, and they spent three days without eating or resting, taking turns sewing it for me, their hands covered in needle pricks.

The third was a heavy gold bracelet.

The year I graduated college, Elijah gave me a big gold bracelet and swore he'd give me a good life for the rest of my days.

Jeanette heard about it and, refusing to be outdone, took every cent of her salary and bought me one too.

In the end I had the two bracelets melted together and wore it for a long time.

I'd thought we would stay happy like that forever.

How did it come to this...

I wiped away my tears, gritted my teeth, and put those three things deep in the back of a storage cabinet. I wasn't taking them with me.

Three things, to settle three abandonments.

There would be no next time.

That afternoon, before I went to hand over the divorce papers, I booked a flight to France for two weeks out.

Five years ago, my parents had moved the company to France. I chose to stay behind for Elijah.

Now there was no reason left to stay.

More than that, I no longer dared to give birth here.

I didn't know whether, at the moment I needed someone most, these two people beside me would abandon me all over again and leave me to fend for myself.

When I came downstairs, I found Elijah and Jeanette sitting at the breakfast table, chatting and laughing over their food.

He was patiently picking the cilantro out of Jeanette's bowl, stalk by stalk, then turned to remind the housekeeper,

"From now on, no cilantro in the cooking. And no mango in the desserts."

The housekeeper looked caught.

"Dessert's fine, but the missus likes cilantro."

"Then leave it in. I don't eat it anyway." Jeanette rolled her eyes at Elijah with a coy little pout.

Elijah said, all indulgence,

"Fine, then I'll pick it out for you from now on, Your Highness."

My nails were sinking into my palms, a fine, needling pain spreading through them, and I felt none of it.

There was a time Elijah knew every one of my likes and dislikes down to the last detail, and never gave a thought to Jeanette's.

I'd told him more than once that Jeanette was allergic to mango, that she didn't like cilantro.

He never remembered.

Now he'd finally memorized hers, and forgotten mine.

Slowly, I unclenched my hand.

Once, I'd believed my husband would shield me and my friend would stand by me, so I'd handed over my whole heart without holding anything back.

From now on, I would have to learn to love myself.

I sat down and heaped cilantro on my little wontons.

Elijah's expression stalled for a beat. Only when he saw I wasn't angry did he speak.

"Sweetheart, Jenny's divorced, she's got nowhere to stay right now. We've always kept a room for her here, haven't we? Let her stay for the time being."

Jeanette took my hand too and let out a soft little sigh.

"Beryl, you know I'd never want to be the third wheel between you two if I had any other choice. I'll move out the moment I find a place."

I watched the two of them trade their lines back and forth, my chest tight enough to ache, and couldn't help the barb.

"I have so many houses in my name. Does it have to be this one?"

Elijah's face darkened, and it came straight out of him.

"Beryl Simmons, when did you get so cold? Jenny's a young woman on her own. Do you know how dangerous it is for her to live somewhere by herself?"

Jeanette tugged at his sleeve at once, frowning in reproach.

"Don't snap at Beryl. She's pregnant, her moods are all over the place as it is, and maybe she's still upset about last night."

She gave Elijah a light punch.

"Can't you coax her a little? If the two of us fall out because of this, I'll never forgive you."

My stomach heaved, the nausea so bad I nearly threw up, and I stood to go.

Elijah caught me, his eyes full of remorse.

"Sweetheart, I didn't skip picking you up last night on purpose. I was just so tired I fell asleep by accident. Don't be angry, all right?"

He changed the subject, clumsily.

"Right, which place did you have your eye on yesterday? Anything else you like? I'll buy all of it for you."

Before I could open my mouth, Jeanette had already looped her arm through mine, elbowing Elijah aside, and said with a sweet, needling smile,

"Beryl already has plenty of houses."

"Elijah, you really have no idea what women like. You're a complete block of wood."

Elijah instantly held up his phone to argue back.

"Who says I don't? That three-million-dollar pink diamond I bought you the other day, weren't you thrilled to death?"

The purchase record on his phone crashed into view before I could brace for it.

I froze where I stood.

Ever since I got pregnant, Elijah had been treating Jeanette better and better.

Before, he wouldn't so much as buy her a bottle of water.

Now, every time he came back from a business trip, he brought the exact same gift for me and for her.

He said it was loving me so much it spilled over onto the people close to me.

I'd thought that was already too much.

But it turned out he'd been giving Jeanette gifts behind my back all along, ones I didn't get.

And that pink diamond.

It was the very one I'd stood at the counter loving.

Back then, Elijah had only said pink diamonds don't hold their value, there was no point buying it.

And then he'd turned around and bought it for Jeanette.

The corner of my mouth twitched. I felt like my old self had been a joke.

Elijah caught the look on my face and quickly locked the screen, his voice thin.

"Sweetheart, I didn't tell you because I didn't want you reading into it."

"Jenny's been in a bad way lately. I was just... coaxing her a little, on your behalf."

I dodged his hand, worn out.

"On my behalf?"

Elijah, you've told so many lies. Have you started believing them yourself?

Jeanette suddenly bowed her head, her eyes going red.

"Beryl, have I upset you somehow? If you really mind, I can go stay at a hotel..."

"Don't be silly."

Elijah cut her off at once.

"You're Beryl's best friend. How could she possibly mind you staying here?"

His eyes were full of tenderness, his voice impossibly gentle.

The corner of my mouth twitched again. I turned and walked away.

Stay if she wants to.

I was leaving soon anyway.

Who lived in this house had nothing to do with me anymore.

Elijah hurried after me.

"Sweetheart, where do you think you're going with that belly? Isn't your OB-GYN checkup today? I'll come with you."

Then he turned back to remind Jeanette,

"You drank so much last night. Remember to have plenty of soup."

For the first time, I stood on the outside and watched Elijah care for another woman like this.

Attentive. Patient. Gentle.

All the things that had once belonged to me alone, it turned out, could be handed to someone else without any effort at all.

Jeanette gave a few soft coughs.

"My head hurts a bit, I think I'm coming down with something. Since you're both going to the hospital anyway, take me along too."

Elijah's brows knit at once as he ushered her toward the door.

"A grown woman, and still can't look after yourself."

And so, without my agreeing to it, Elijah's car filled up with three people again.

It used to be me who started the conversations, who smoothed things over between them.

Now I didn't want to say a single word.

If anything, it was the two of them who kept half-starting to speak and stopping, not daring to show what they were thinking.

At the hospital, Jeanette went off for her own examination.

Elijah stayed by my side, but he was restless, distracted.

Seeing me stay silent, he spoke first.

"Sweetheart, did you bring the real-estate contract? We can go sort it out on the way afterward. I'll take a look, make sure there aren't any traps in it."

I hesitated for a while, then took the document out after all.

I really wanted to know how Elijah would react when he discovered what he was signing was divorce papers.

But the moment his hand touched the document,

a nurse came running over.

"Is Jeanette Gomez's family here? She's fainted! She said her family was in OB-GYN!"

With a soft slap, the document dropped to the floor.

Elijah spun around without a second thought and rushed off in Jeanette's direction.

Under the nurse's pitying gaze, eight months pregnant, I lowered myself down inch by inch, struggling, and picked the divorce papers back up.

So close, Elijah.

You were about to find out I wanted to divorce you.

I did the checkup alone, and I left alone.

I took a cab straight to the law firm and handed the papers to my lawyer.

The lawyer asked,

"Ms. Simmons, are you sure you want to raise the child on your own?"

I rested my hand lightly on my belly and looked out the window.

The sun was bright, the birdsong crisp and clear.

I wanted my child surrounded by sunlight, not by the filth of parents who'd stopped loving each other.

I nodded, sure of it.

Back home, maybe because I'd been through too much, my belly went tight, cramping so hard I broke into a cold sweat, and all I could do was lie down and rest.

Elijah called on video. Half-conscious, I hit answer by accident.

The instant the screen lit up,

I saw him with a towel in his hand, gently wiping down Jeanette's body.

Only when he noticed the call had connected did he look up and explain,

"Honey, Jenny's running a fever, a hundred and two. I'm looking after her for you for now. Don't worry."

I lay there in the empty room, my leg seizing up so painfully the tears kept welling.

And the two people who once treated me best were leaning into each other in a hospital.

I wanted to hang up, but then I heard Jeanette, feverish and dazed, suddenly throw her arms around Elijah's waist, her voice thick with tears,

"Elijah… why are you so good to me? Don't be this good to me. I'll get greedy."

The phone got knocked over, the camera aimed at the ceiling.

But I still heard Elijah, clear as anything, coaxing her softly.

"Silly, why are you crying? I'm good to you and you're not even happy about it?"

Jeanette hiccupped through her sobs.

"But I'm not as pretty as Beryl, and I'm not as accomplished as her… I don't deserve it."

My heart clenched. I never thought she'd see it that way.

After a brief silence, I heard Elijah answer softly.

"You do deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone."

I pressed end.

And there it was again, the day we graduated senior year, Elijah saying to me, so serious and solemn,

"Beryl, you deserve the very best of everything in this world."

"I'll be good to you my whole life."

Vows are like dust. One gust of wind and they no longer count.

Now, in Elijah's heart, someone more deserving than me had already appeared.

I buried my face in the pillow.

The whole room was quiet.

Only the choking sob I couldn't hold down gave away how wronged I felt.

When I drifted awake, I noticed someone gently massaging my swollen calves.

Elijah was sitting on the edge of the bed, his touch practiced and patient, his profile as gentle as ever.

He had always been like this.

Ever since I got pregnant, he'd taken care of me down to the smallest detail, massaging me, soaking my feet, researching recipes for pregnant women, like a perfect husband and a perfect father.

If it weren't for the way he'd changed toward Jeanette, I'd have found no proof at all that his heart had turned.

I felt dazed, and I couldn't help wondering whether everything these past few days had been nothing but a dream of mine.

But the moment Elijah spoke, he shattered every lie I'd been telling myself.

"Honey, you're finally awake."

"Why did you leave yesterday without telling me? Jenny's got a high fever. She's stubborn, refuses point-blank to be admitted, and now she won't even take her medicine. Will you go talk her into it?"

It felt like a blunt knife sawing at my chest, over and over.

He'd waited by my bed for me to wake up, and the first thing out of his mouth was asking me to go coax another woman into taking her medicine.

He hadn't noticed my nightgown was already soaked through with cold sweat. Hadn't noticed how pale my face was.

I drew my leg back, my voice tired and hoarse,

"I'm not her mother. I can't coax her into taking her medicine."

Elijah faltered for a moment, catching that something was off with me. He frowned and reached out to take my hand.

"Honey, have you been in a bad mood lately? Is the baby giving you a hard time?"

"If something hurts, or something's bothering you, you have to tell me. You keep it all bottled up, and I really can't guess what you're thinking."

"If you mind Jenny staying at the house, then maybe… I could give her the key to that little apartment of yours?"

There it was again…

Every time I showed the slightest bit of negative feeling, Elijah would be gentle like this, understanding, patiently reasoning with me.

As if he'd done nothing wrong, and it was only that I'd become too prone to overthinking since getting pregnant.

Before, his gentleness always shook me. I'd even end up blaming myself, wondering if I was making too big a deal out of nothing.

But now, all I felt was anger.

Did he want to pin all of this on my pregnancy hormones?

I lifted my head and looked into his eyes too, and smiled.

"Sure. Go ahead and send her over there."

The calculating look on Elijah's face visibly stiffened.

As if he'd never imagined I would actually agree to send Jeanette away.

He spoke, a little awkwardly,

"…We'll have to wait until she's better."

I said nothing, just looked at him.

Elijah must have realized he'd said the wrong thing. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, and he changed the subject.

"Right, the senior-year alumni reunion is in a couple of days. Don't forget. I'll come pick you up after work."

With that, he barely lingered, turning and walking out of the room.

I raised a hand and pressed lightly against the dull ache in my chest, and realized that somewhere along the way I'd gotten used to being disappointed.

It was as though every time I let myself hope, what came back was only a more humiliating result.

But it was fine. In a little over two weeks, I'd be gone.

And I could use this time to wean myself, bit by bit, off my dependence on Elijah, off these twenty years of love.

After all, he'd occupied my life for so very long. To truly let go, I had to give myself a little time.

Over the next two days, Elijah came back to the room late every night.

He always thought his movements were quiet enough not to wake me.

But I was never asleep.

I could hear it clearly, the laughter and talking that drifted now and then from the room next door.

I even heard a few faint, ambiguous gasps.

Each time I heard it, my heart grew a degree colder.

I recorded those sounds, in case the divorce came down to a courtroom fight later.

At night Elijah slipped quietly back into bed and reached out to pull me, pretending to sleep, into his arms.

"Honey, I love you."

I lay there with my eyes open, staring into nothing, tears sliding down without my meaning them to.

At last I believed what people online said, that a confession blurted out late at night is the guilt of someone who's been cheating.