And the second test, same method, different clinic. I needed to be sure. I closed my planner but that’s not even the interesting part.
Last week, I saw Rose at the same fertility clinic. She was leaving just as I arrived for the second test results. Angela leaned forward.
You think she’s actually pregnant? Oh, I know she is. She’s been avoiding wine at family dinners, making excuses about antibiotics. I pulled out my phone showing Angela a series of photos.
She’s also been meeting someone, not Renee. The photo showed Rose outside a cafe then getting into a car. The driver’s face was clear in one shot, a handsome man with dark hair.
His name is Ricky, I said. Her ex from college. I found him on social media.
They’ve been liking each other’s posts for months, so the baby might not be Renee’s at all. She’s probably using their affair to trap him. Make him leave me.
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. The irony is, she doesn’t know he can’t father children. He’s been lying to her too.
Angela reached across the table, squeezing my hand. What’s your plan? I pulled out an invitation, cream colored, elegant. My birthday dinner.
I’m going to let them make their grand announcement. Let them think they’ve won. My voice was steady, cold, and then I’m going to destroy everything they thought they knew.
Andrea, Angela said softly, this isn’t just revenge. This is nuclear. I met her eyes.
They didn’t just betray me, Angela. They made me doubt my sanity, my worth, my ability to be a mother. I tucked the invitation back into my bag.
I don’t just want revenge. I want implications. Destruction.
Accountability. And after? After? I smiled, thinking of the apartment I’d already leased, the lawyer I’d contacted, the evidence I’d gathered. After I’m going to build a life so good they’ll choke on the ashes of what they lost.
The restaurant erupted into chaos after I left. Through the glass doors, I heard Rose’s shrill voice. She’s lying.
She has to be lying. I made it halfway to my car before Mary caught up with me, her heels clicking rapidly on the pavement. Andrea, wait.
She grabbed my elbow, her voice low. I always thought something was off about Rose. The way she’d hang around Rene’s office parties.
Always touching his arm, laughing too loud at his jokes. You knew? I suspected, but I didn’t want to see it. Mary glanced back at the restaurant.
What are you gonna do now? Now? I’m going home to pack a bag. When I pulled into our driveway, Rene’s car was already there. I found him pacing in the kitchen, phone in hand.
Where have you been? I’ve called you six times. I walked past him to the bedroom, pulling out the suitcase I’d hidden in the back of my closet weeks ago. Andrea, stop.
We need to talk about this. He followed me, hovering in the doorway. That test.
There must be some mistake. We can get another opinion. Three years, I said, not looking at him as I packed.
Three years of watching me blame myself, take medications, go to therapy, all while you were fucking my sister. It wasn’t like that. Then what was it like? I finally turned to face him.
Explain it to me, Rene. Explain how you could watch me cry every month when my period came, knowing you couldn’t get me pregnant, even if you wanted to. His phone buzzed.
Rose’s face flashed on the screen. You should answer that, I said, zipping up my suitcase. Sounds like your girlfriend needs you.
Where are you going? Away from you. My phone vibrated as I drove. Rose had sent a series of messages.
We need to stick to our story. She’s bluffing. Answer me.
You’re ruining everything. I turned off my phone and drove to Angela’s house. She was waiting on her porch with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Mary called, she said as I sat down. Apparently Rose had a complete meltdown after you left, started screaming about how you’ve always been jealous of her. I took a long sip of wine.
Remember two months ago when I said I saw Rose at the clinic? Yeah. I did more than just see her. I pulled out my phone and opened a photo.
I followed her inside. The image showed Rose talking to a nurse, her hand resting on her still flat stomach. She was there for a prenatal appointment, I said.
But get this, she used her old insurance card, the one from when she was still with Ricky. Angela’s eyes widened. Her ex, the same ex she’s been secretly meeting for coffee.
I showed her another photo, Rose and Ricky outside a cafe, his hand on her lower back. I found his profile. He’s been posting cryptic messages about second chances and unexpected blessings.
Holy shit. Angela grabbed her laptop. Let me look him up.
While she typed, my phone lit up with a text from Mary. Renee’s telling everyone you’re having a mental breakdown. Rose is backing him up.
Found him. Angela turned the screen toward me. Look at his social media.
There it was. A hidden folder on Ricky’s profile. Photos of him and Rose from various dates over the past few months, carefully untagged, but not deleted.
The timestamps, Angela pointed out. These are from right around when she would’ve gotten pregnant. My phone buzzed again.
This time it was my mother. Andrea, she said when I answered, her voice tight with anger. What you did tonight was unforgivable.
What I did? What about what Rose did? She’s your sister, and now she’s carrying your husband’s child. I cut her off with a laugh. No, mother.