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“It is normally you that has too much to drink. I’m usually the one packing you into the taxi and promising the driver you won’t throw up in the back. Maybe you needed a drink tonight to loosen up a little.” As I say this, something stirs inside me. I can’t recall the last time Juliette had a drink. I stare at her. She looks tired and gray, even with makeup on.
“In fact…” I said, “… you’ve not had a drink in weeks.” She hunches over the wheel as if she’s driving a tank. I don’t know why the thought occurs to me. It is as if she has been trying to tell me without saying the words like she needs the burden of it gone. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t have to.
I can’t describe my feelings. There is no elation at the prospect of being a father. There is no paternal spark or joy at the thought of a new life because I know the baby isn’t mine. We haven’t slept together in months. Our relationship has consisted of long working hours and avoidance tactics. All I feel is loss.
I’ve lost something that should have been mine. That’s not to say I want a baby with Juliette. I know our marriage has failed, and the worst thing we could do is have a child together, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be a father. I want a family at some point, and I feel like she’s taken that away from me.
“How long?”
“How long what?”
“How far gone are you?” Juliette flips the wipers on as rain starts to leave large splotches on the windshield.
“About ten weeks.”
“Fuck.” I heave a sigh as I stare out the window, the rain now running down the side of the car. “I know it isn’t mine.”
Juliette tuts. She grips the wheel like she is holding on for dear life.
“So, who’s the father?”
I expect it to be some guy from her work, an ex, or just any old Tom, Dick, or Harry. And I think I could have dealt with that. If it had been anyone else, I don’t think the evening would have ended the way it did. I should have seen the guilt on her face. I should have seen the deceit and the lies.
When she doesn’t answer, I press on.
“How long has it been going on?” She holds the wheel, the rain battering the glass as if attempting to get into the car with us. “Answer me! How fucking long has this been going on?” The wipers are on full speed, causing a lashing swish across the front of the car.
“Long enough,” is her reply, and my anger boils.
She does not apologize or explain. It just is.
“How can you be so fucking heartless?” I say. “How can you sit there with another man’s child growing inside you and not feel a little remorse after everything we have been through?”
“Don’t even think about going down that road,” Juliette spits.
“I know all you wanted was a baby. I married you because you told me you were pregnant. And you married me because you thought I could give you a baby. So, what? After all this time of no baby, you decided to try with someone else? Is that what happened here?”
“I love him,” she replies.
“Oh, well, that’s okay then. At least you can all play happy families together. I hope he knows what he’s letting himself in for.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means. I hope he’s ready for your emotional blackmail and the bullshit that comes out of your mouth. It wouldn’t surprise me if you weren’t even pregnant.”
“You bastard!” Juliette shouts.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied about a pregnancy.”
“You don’t know how hard it is, wanting something for so long.”
“Spare me the fucking heartache, will you? Save it for your new man. I’m sure he’ll want to sit and listen to how hard done by you are.”
I am about to tell her to stop the car and get out and walk the rest of the way home when her phone rings. Her phone is linked to her car by Bluetooth, so the ringtone sounds through the speakers, and the caller’s name comes up on the dashboard.
“Hodgson…” I read the name aloud as I glance at Juliette. “Would this be the Hodgson company that keeps phoning you about work? What did you say they were? A supplier? Was that it?” Juliette has been getting calls from Hodgson for months, always explaining them as a company that supplies one of the materials at her work. She’s been having problems with them for a while, hence the number of phone calls. Another lie. All of it lies.
