Chapter 9 - JESSICA'S TWO PINK LINES
I stared at Jessica's photograph until the screen dimmed.
Two pink lines.
The image looked almost identical to the test that had detonated my marriage.
For several seconds, I felt nothing.
Then everything arrived at once.
Anger.
Disbelief.
A dark, almost cruel sense of symmetry.
And beneath all of it, a question I hated myself for asking.
Was Derek the father?
Claire read the message over my shoulder.
Her mouth fell open.
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Apparently not."
"How far along is she?"
"I don't know."
"Does Derek know?"
"I don't know."
Another message arrived.
PLEASE DON'T TELL HIM YET.
I frowned.
Then she added.
I NEED TO TELL YOU WHAT HE SAID WHEN I MENTIONED I WAS LATE.
My stomach tightened.
I typed.
Tell me now.
Jessica replied.
HE ASKED WHO I'D BEEN SLEEPING WITH.
I read the sentence twice.
Then I laughed.
I could not help it.
The sound came out sharp and exhausted.
Claire looked at me.
"What?"
I showed her.
Her expression went blank.
Then she whispered, "No way."
There was more.
HE SAID HE HAD A VASECTOMY AND THERE WAS NO WAY IT COULD BE HIS.
The same accusation.
The same logic.
The same man.
Claire sat down beside me.
"He did it to her too."
I shook my head slowly.
"He didn't learn anything."
Jessica called before I could respond.
I answered.
She was crying quietly.
"I know I don't have any right to ask you for help."
"You're correct."
She inhaled shakily.
"But I don't know who else understands what he's doing."
That sentence landed harder than I wanted it to.
"When did you take the test?"
"Tonight."
"How late are you?"
"Eight days."
"And Derek knows you're late?"
"I told him yesterday because I was scared."
"What happened?"
Jessica took a breath.
"He stared at me for maybe ten seconds."
Her voice cracked.
"Then he asked who the father was."
I closed my eyes.
I could see our kitchen again.
The ceramic mug.
His cold laugh.
Who is he?
"What did you say?"
"I told him he was the only person I'd slept with in months."
"And?"
"He said that was exactly what you said."
A chill moved over my arms.
Derek had turned my truth into a template for accusing another woman.
"Did you show him the test?"
"Not yet."
"Then how does he know?"
"He doesn't know I'm positive."
Jessica swallowed.
"He only knows I'm late."
"Why are you telling me first?"
There was a long pause.
"Because I think he'll leave."
I almost said that was what she had chosen when she helped him leave me.
The words reached my tongue.
I stopped them.
Cruelty would not repair anything.
"Maybe he will," I said instead.
"What did you do when he accused you?"
The irony was almost unbearable.
"I told him the truth."
"And when he didn't believe you?"
"I stopped begging him to."
Jessica began crying harder.
"I deserve this."
I gripped the phone.
"No."
She went quiet.
"You deserve consequences for sleeping with a married man."
I forced each word to stay calm.
"You do not deserve to be falsely accused of cheating because Derek refuses to understand his own medical procedure."
Jessica sniffed.
"Why are you being kind to me?"
"I'm not."
"Then what are you doing?"
I looked at my ultrasound picture.
"Refusing to become him."
We agreed to meet the next morning at the same bakery.
When Jessica arrived, she looked like she had not slept.
She carried the pregnancy test in a sealed plastic bag as if it were evidence.
I almost told her she did not need to prove it to me.
Then I realized how deeply Derek had already damaged both of us.
We had started bringing proof to conversations that should have required trust.
Jessica sat down.
"I told him this morning."
"How did he react?"
She laughed bitterly.
"Exactly how you think."
"He asked who the father is."
"Yes."
"Did you show him the lab report you found?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"He said the vasectomy could have failed with you and still worked later."
I blinked.
It was technically possible for sperm counts to change over time, but Derek had never completed the clearance testing that would let him know when or whether sterility occurred.
Jessica already understood that now.
"He demanded a paternity test," she said.
I stared at her.
"Of course he did."
"Then he said he wasn't paying for it."
That sounded familiar too.
Jessica pressed both hands around her coffee cup.
"Sarah, I need to tell you something worse."
I almost laughed.
"That phrase is becoming a tradition."
She did not smile.
"The money he moved from your account."
My attention sharpened.
"What about it?"
"Some of it went into an account he opened in his name."
"I know."
"Some of it paid the deposit on a townhouse."
"For you two?"
She nodded.
"He told me it was his money."
"How much?"
"Eight thousand dollars for deposit, first month, furnishings, and fees."
I felt heat rise into my face.
"He used our joint savings to build a new home with you."
Jessica looked down.
"Yes."
"While demanding I reimburse him for pregnancy expenses if the baby wasn't his."
"I didn't know where the money came from."
"You didn't ask?"
"No."
I leaned back.
"You really trusted him."
Jessica's eyes filled.
"I thought he trusted me."
The sentence was so painfully naive that I almost pitied her.
Almost.
She slid a folder across the table.
Inside were copies of the townhouse lease, furniture receipts, and a bank-transfer confirmation Derek had left in the apartment.
"Why are you giving me these?"
"Because the lease has both our names, and I don't want anyone saying I hid where the money went."
"Have you talked to a lawyer?"
"Not yet."
"You should."
Jessica nodded.
Then she looked directly at me.
"I'm leaving him."
That surprised me.
"Because he accused you?"
"Because I finally understand that the accusation isn't the problem."
"What is?"
"He needs someone else to be guilty so he never has to be."
The insight was simple.
It was also the clearest description of Derek I had heard.
My phone buzzed.
A text from him appeared.
HAVE YOU TALKED TO JESSICA TODAY?
I turned the screen facedown.
Jessica's phone rang at the same moment.
Derek.
She declined the call.
He called again.
She declined it again.
Then a message appeared on her screen.
I saw her face change.
"What did he say?"
She handed me the phone.
TELL SARAH HER LITTLE GAME IS OVER.
A second message arrived while I was holding it.
I'M GETTING A LAWYER TO PROVE SHE STOLE MY MEDICAL RECORDS AND FAKED THOSE MESSAGES.
Jessica took the phone back.
"He says you faked them?"
"Apparently."
"They're on my phone."
"He knows that."
Jessica's jaw tightened.
"Then I'll give your lawyer the phone."
I stared at her.
"You don't have to do that."
"Yes, I do."
She placed one hand unconsciously over her lower abdomen.
"Because I have a baby to protect now too."
The next two weeks moved quickly.
Jessica retained her own attorney.
Through counsel, she arranged to preserve a forensic copy of the old work phone.
The metadata confirmed the messages and recorded call had not been created recently.
Derek's accusation that I fabricated them began collapsing before he could formally make it.
Then came the strange part.
He stopped contacting me entirely.
No calls.
No texts.
No angry emails.
Even Marilyn went silent.
The quiet should have felt peaceful.
Instead, it frightened me.
Three days later, Nina called while I was folding baby clothes Claire had bought far too early.
"Derek filed a motion this morning."
"For what?"
"He wants the court to restrict dissemination of the medical records and electronic communications."
"I haven't disseminated them."
"I know."
"So why does he care?"
Nina paused.
"Because he's also asking to depose Jessica."
I sat down slowly.
"Why?"
"According to his filing, he intends to establish that she manipulated evidence after becoming angry with him."
My stomach tightened.
"He's going after her now."
"Yes."
I looked at the tiny yellow onesie in my hands.
Derek had once made me feel like the only person in the world who could possibly be lying.
Now he was building the same story around Jessica.
May you like
The difference was that this time, we could see him doing it in real time.
