Page 44 of Shattered

“So you believed her,” I said.

“She was convincing. And I was scared. I kept thinking maybe she was lying about the pregnancy, maybe the baby wasn’t mine. I told her I wanted a DNA test. She agreed but said we had to wait until after the first trimester. Said it was safer that way.”

The waiter appeared with menus. We both waved him away.

“So you waited,” I said once the waiter left. “For months. While planning our wedding. While picking out flowers and cake flavors and seating charts.”

“I know how this sounds.”

“Do you?”

“I thought maybe I could handle it without destroying everything. Maybe the test would prove it wasn’t mine and we could just move forward.”

I didn’t say anything to that, and he continued.

“She kept pushing back the test date. Making excuses. And finally, the week of our wedding, she called me. Said she couldn’t wait any longer. That if I didn’t acknowledge the baby publicly, she was going to show up at the ceremony and tell everyone.”

I watched him fidget with his napkin, tearing small pieces off and rolling them between his fingers. Another nervous habit I knew too well.

“I couldn’t let her ruin our wedding,” he said. “Couldn’t let her stand up in front of everyone and announce it like that. So Itold her I’d take responsibility. That I’d do the right thing.” He looked up at me with red eyes. “And then I sent you those texts because I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t bear to watch you look at me while I destroyed everything.”

“So you destroyed me by text instead.”

“I know it was unforgivable. But Delia, you know me. You know my history. I couldn’t abandon a baby. My parents abandoned me when I was six. I spent five years in foster care being nobody’s choice. I couldn’t do that to a child.”

I did know. Jake’s childhood was one of the reasons I’d fallen for him in the first place. He’d built something from nothing, understood what it felt like to be unwanted, to always be second choice.

“What happened to the baby?” I asked.

“There was no baby.” His voice curdled into something bitter. “Jennifer admitted it two weeks ago. She was never pregnant. Never slept with me. Lied about everything.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief. “What?”

“I finally insisted on seeing medical records. Threatened to take her to court if she didn’t provide proof. She laughed in my face and said the whole thing was a test. She wanted to see if I’d choose her or you.” He was crying now. “She said she’d won this round.”

The cruelty of it made my stomach twist. Made me want to find Jennifer and ask her what kind of person played games with other people’s entire lives like that.

But mostly I was just exhausted.

“I’m so sorry.” Jake reached across the table for my hand.

I pulled back before he could touch me and watched his face crumble.

“I’m sorry, Delia. Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life. Every day since our wedding I’ve regretted it. Every singleday I wake up and remember what I did and it destroys me all over again.”

“You left me standing in a church in front of three hundred people,” I said, barely above a whisper.

“I know.”

“You chose someone else.”

“I know what I did.” The tears were falling faster now. “I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I’m asking for it anyway because not asking means giving up, and I can’t give up on us. I can’t give up on you.”

Part of me wanted to tell him there was no “us” anymore. That he’d killed us when he sent those texts. That second chances didn’t exist for people who’d humiliated you in front of everyone you’d ever known.

But another part remembered being happy. Remembered Jake making me laugh, believing in my art when I was ready to quit, making me feel like I was somebody’s first choice for the first time in my life.

“I need time,” I heard myself say. “To think.”