Chapter Seventeen
On Sunday evening, Mark returned the kids home from their weekend together. While they lugged backpacks and soccer cleats inside, he ran through the weekend debrief with Tessa—who ate what, who stayed up too late, the little details that always mattered to Tessa.
Neither of them had brought up their last conversation—the letter, the pregnancy, his confession that it was over with Kate and that he still loved Tessa, or the fact that Tessa had spoken with a lawyer.
For Mark's part, he had resolved to put Tessa first from now on—to not pressure her, to take whatever she was willing to give, and to pray she might grant him a stay of execution, so to speak.
Still, there was one question he was desperate to ask, one hope he carried like a fragile flame.
Mark helped the kids get settled, then turned to Tessa before heading out the door, "Tessa, I was wondering about your next appointment--with the doctor."
She looked at him with mild surprise, "It's tomorrow, actually."
"That's...great." He cleared his throat. "I mean, I was hoping I could start coming with you. To the appointments, the ultrasounds—I want to be there for you. For the baby."
Tessa bit back the sharp reply that rose to her lips. Something about how he hadn't been there for her before, why now? But this was his child too, no matter how she felt about him right now, so she simply said, "That's fine. I'll text you the time."
The next day, Mark left work and met Tessa at the clinic. They checked in at the front desk, exchanging only brief greetings. The waiting room felt sterile and tense, each minute dragging until the nurse finally called Tessa's name.
Inside the exam room, the doctor breezed in with a cheerful energy. "All right, let's see how this little one is doing," she said brightly, rolling the ultrasound machine into place. "At sixteen weeks, we should be able to get a really good look today."
Tessa lay back on the table, folding her hands over her stomach as the gel was applied.
Mark stood at her side, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.
He couldn't help but remember how different this had been with their other pregnancies—how he and Tessa had laughed nervously with Michael, how Chrissy had kicked at the wand, how they had squeezed each other's hands in wonder every time the rapid whoosh of a heartbeat filled the room.
Now there was only silence between them, the hum of the machine filling the space.
"There it is," the doctor said warmly, pointing at the screen as the grainy black-and-white image came into focus. A tiny flicker pulsed steadily. "Baby looks right on track."
Mark sucked in a breath. That small, insistent rhythm undid him, and he instinctively reached for Tessa's hand. She kept hers folded against her chest, and his fingers closed on empty air before he drew them back.
The doctor carried on in the same upbeat tone, narrating as she moved the probe.
"Here's the head...there are the arms and legs.
This line here is the spine. And if you look closely, you can make out the stomach, kidneys, and even the bladder.
Always amazing how much we can see already at sixteen weeks. "
Mark swallowed hard, staring at the screen, awe taking words away.
"Would you like to know the sex today?" the doctor asked, glancing at them with a smile. "At this stage, it's usually pretty clear."
Tessa shifted slightly, her eyes still on the monitor. "No, thank you. Not yet," she said quickly.
Mark cleared his throat, forcing a polite smile. "Yeah, we'll wait."
"Of course," the doctor said, still smiling. "Everything looks healthy. I'll print some pictures for you to take home. Four kids—you two are going to have your hands full." She chuckled as she made a note on the chart.
Tessa managed a faint smile. "Yes, we will."
As they stepped out of the clinic into the afternoon air, Mark glanced at her. "You must be hungry. Do you want to grab something to eat before it's time to get the kids?"
Tessa hesitated, weighing the offer. Finally, she nodded. She had been turning over their last conversation in her mind, and there were questions she needed to ask.
They ended up at a small sandwich shop nearby. After ordering, they chose a table by the window. For a few minutes, their talk stayed on safe ground—the ultrasound, how Tessa was feeling, the kids, school. The words were polite but halting, the pauses heavy.
At last, Tessa folded her hands on the table and met his eyes.
"Mark, with a little time and perspective, I feel stronger and I feel like I'm ready to address some things--to get some answers.
" She took a sip of her drink, considering her words.
"This doesn't mean I'm ready to forgive, or move on, or get back together. But I need to understand some things."
Mark drew in an uneven breath. "Ask me anything."
"I'm trying to make sense of where all this came from," she said. "I thought we were happy together. And then you went and did...this." Her voice wavered, but she held steady.
Mark's chest ached. "First of all, Tess, I need you to know that any explanations I have aren't an excuse for what I did—how I hurt you, hurt our family." He paused. "But I've been talking with Jeremy, the pastoral counselor at church. He's been helping me understand how I got here."
Tessa's eyebrows lifted, surprised. "Jeremy? At church?"
Mark smiled wryly. "That day when you asked me to take the kids to church? I was hanging around in the foyer and met him while we waited for the kids. We got to talking--and well, he gave me some good advice. I decided to go back for more--he doesn't pull any punches, you know?"
Tessa leaned back slightly. "Okay--so what did you figure out?"
Mark hesitated, then leaned forward. "It's hard to know where to start--maybe at my ten-year reunion—"
"It seemed like you were different when you came back," Tessa said quietly.
"Yeah." He exhaled. "Nothing dramatic happened there, and looking back it seems almost trivial." He took a long sip from his straw. "Tessa, do you remember how my friends and I had been planning that big backpacking trip to Europe?"
"Oh, right," Tessa said, her brow furrowing. "You planned it for years—but you didn't go. Because I was pregnant."
Mark nodded. "Yes. And I hadn't thought about it in years. But at the reunion they showed a slideshow from the trip, all of them having adventures, and it hit me in the gut, like there on the screen was an alternate life I somehow missed out on."
Tessa paled. "Wait, you're saying that's the life you wished you'd had instead of me—and Michael, Chrissy, and Luke?"
Mark shook his head quickly. "No. No, it wasn't that I wished you all away.
It was more like...I got greedy, that I thought I was entitled to both lives--like I should have had that life first, before grown up responsibilities.
And as I let the resentment fester, I started to believe that after all my 'hard work and sacrifice,' I deserved a second chance at what I'd missed. "
Her voice cracked. "If you were feeling all that, I don't understand why you kept all that in. Why didn't you just talk to me about it?"
His throat worked as he swallowed. "At first, I couldn't even put it into words. And then, once the resentment took root, it distorted how I saw you. I let that bitterness divide me from you. It was easier just to let the space grow instead of having an honest conversation."
"Okay," she said after a moment. "I get how you felt resentful, how that made you distracted and distant. But what I can't understand is how that turned into...betraying me with Kate. The man I thought I knew would never have done that."
Mark's voice roughened. "I wish it wasn't true—that I had been the man you thought I was, the man you deserved. But when I look at what I did...I see I became someone else."
Her eyes flicked to his, hesitating as if bracing herself to hear the answer. "So, how did that happen--with Kate?"
"It didn't happen right away." He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
"At first, Kate and I were just coworkers on a project.
For the first couple of months, it was only that.
But gradually I let her get closer. I was flattered by the attention, and I ignored the warning signs because I had been living in this toxic soup of entitled resentment.
To use kind of a disgusting analogy--it was like that old cliche about the frog in the warm water that doesn't realize that it's too hot until it's too late. "
He leaned forward, voice breaking. "I am so sorry, Tess. I was selfish, only thinking of myself. I hate myself for how I hurt you."
Her eyes lifted, sharp with pain. "Do you still feel that way? That you missed out?"
"No." His voice caught, but he pressed on. "When I came home that day and said those terrible things to you in the kitchen—and I saw how much I'd hurt you—that shook me. I was so messed up, though, that it took a while--it was reading your letter that really opened my eyes to what I did."
Tessa shook her head. "But nothing has changed. I haven't changed. The situation is still the same—and with another baby, it's only going to be more demanding. How can you say you don't resent it anymore, or won't again in the future?"
Mark drew in a long breath. "You don't trust me, and you have every reason not to.
I have let you down in the worst way, at the worst time.
The only thing I can say is that I know now, with all my heart, that there was nothing lacking in our life together, our family, in you.
You were and still are the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'm so so sorry I ever let you think otherwise. What was lacking was me, inside me."
Mark sighed, then spoke carefully, as though testing this new way of opening his heart.
"I'm learning that joy and contentment don't come from circumstances—they come from a deeper peace.
And I've been slowly finding that again.
..through prayer, through Scripture, through my talks with Jeremy.
" His voice gentled. "Tessa, I don't expect you to just take my word for it. But I hope, in time, I can show you."