I was in my third trimester when I realized my husband wasn’t “working late.” He was downstairs on our couch — whispering to my best friend while I slept upstairs. I didn’t confront them that night. I waited. And at our gender-reveal party, I made sure the truth came out in front of everyone.
I was in my last trimester when my world fell apart.
It was supposed to be the most beautiful time of my life! This was my first pregnancy.
Sure, I was walking around like a penguin and felt permanently off-balance because my belly was the size of a parade float, but that’s just part of bringing new life into the world.
My husband, Keaton, kept saying I was glowing, that I was beautiful.
I believed him… at first.
I was in my last trimester when my world fell apart.
After a few months of him always working late, I was starting to have doubts.
I’d be buying crackers in the grocery store when I’d suddenly wonder if he still found me attractive, if he was cheating on me, if he was in trouble at work, or if my hormones were driving me insane.
Once, I started crying because the milk had expired.
Keaton leaned against the counter, watching me. He was smiling like I was being adorable instead of falling apart.
I was starting to have doubts.
I was this close to throwing a piece of toast at him.
“You’re glowing, Kate,” he said, his voice smooth and calm.
“I’m leaking,” I snapped, wiping my face with a damp paper towel. “I am leaking emotionally and physically. There is nothing ‘glowing’ about this.”
He laughed and stepped over to kiss my forehead. “I love you, baby. I gotta rush. Should I grab some pickles for you on my way home?”
Before I could answer, the baby kicked.
“There is nothing ‘glowing’ about this.”
“Ooh, that was a game-winning penalty kick.” I placed a hand over my belly. “Come here, Keaton. You need to feel this.”
“Can’t,” he said, grabbing his keys off the hook. “I’m running late again. I have that big deadline at the office. You know how it is.”
I did know. Or I thought I did.
At night, I would lie in bed with my hands on my belly, whispering secrets to the baby while Keaton’s side of the mattress stayed cold.
When he finally did come home, he was a ghost.
“I have that big deadline at the office.”
I’d hear his shoes drop by the door, the shower would run, and then he’d crawl into bed and roll away from me.
“Too tired,” he’d mumble if I tried to reach for him.
He was always too tired.
The next afternoon, my best friend Briar came over. She brought iced coffee and enough gossip to last a week.
When the baby moved, she didn’t hesitate. She pressed her hand to my stomach and grinned.
He was always too tired.
“There she is,” Briar said softly. “My niece is a fighter.”
“We don’t know if it’s a girl yet,” I replied. “Bri, I’m worried. Keaton’s been gone a lot. Work is just… a lot right now, and I get that, but… but I’d feel a lot better if he were home more.”
Briar rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her drink. “Men panic when it gets real, Kate. They see the crib and the diapers, and they just freak out.”
She leaned closer to me, her voice dropping to a serious whisper. She looked me right in the eyes.
“I’d feel a lot better if he were home more.”
“If Keaton ever hurts you, I’ll bury him. You know that, right?”
I smiled. It was exactly what I needed to hear.
“I know.”
She smiled back, and for a second, everything felt okay. I didn’t see the truth then. Honestly? I didn’t want to see it.
It’s funny how the brain protects you from things that are standing right in front of your face.
The night everything changed started at 2:07 a.m. I know the exact time because the red numbers on the alarm clock seemed to burn into my eyes when I woke up.
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