Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
The hunger pangs wake me from an uneasy sleep, my body still adjusting to this new routine of being alone in our bed. The digital clock on my nightstand blinks 3:02 AM – about an hour before Jeremy's alarm would go off for his early shift at the power company. Even now, months into our separation, my internal clock refuses to forget.
I throw off the suffocating blankets, my skin damp with sweat. The house creaks with familiar sounds as I pad toward the kitchen.
The kitchen feels different at this hour - somehow both smaller and more vast without Jeremy's presence filling the spaces between counters and cabinets. I grab an apple from the fruit bowl, its skin cool and smooth against my palm, and reach for a glass of water. That's when I hear it - a voice so quiet I almost mistake it for the house settling.
“I can't talk right now, she's just in the other room.”
Jeremy's voice, but different somehow. Softer. More intimate than I've heard him speak in months. My hand freezes midair, the glass forgotten as I strain to hear more. I press myself against the wall beside the living room archway, my heart thundering so loud I worry it might give me away.
“I want to touch you, too. I will be there this weekend.”
The words hit like physical blows, each one stealing more air from my lungs. The apple slips from my trembling fingers, and I barely catch it before it can hit the floor and reveal my presence. The world tilts sideways, reality fragmenting like a broken mirror. Each breath feels like inhaling shards of glass.
“I know, yes. I plan to tell her that I'm going on a fishing trip.”
A sob claws its way up my throat, and I press my palm against my mouth.
Confronting him now would be a mistake. I need to be calculated, clear-headed. But my mind is a tornado of fragments: every late night at work, his attitude, every random bathroom break that would take hours, is beginning to make sense.
My legs carry me back to the kitchen on autopilot. I brace myself against the counter, its sharp edge digging into my palms, anchoring me to the moment, and quietly head back into the bedroom.
The sound of the shower running fills the house as noon approaches. His phone sits on the kitchen counter where he left it, screen dark.
I shouldn't.
But my feet carry me toward it anyway. My fingers shake as I pick it up, guilt and fear warring in my chest. A message thread with Lilly is right there at the top.
Lilly. My best friend.
My heart stops as I scroll up through months of messages. Nude Pictures. Late-night conversations. Plans made while I slept alone in our bed and when we were together. The truth unfolds in digital blue bubbles, each one more devastating than the last.
Lilly
I love you. I've always loved you.
Jeremy
I love you, too. We'll tell her soon. I promise.
Lilly
The baby... it's definitely yours.
The phone slips from my numb fingers, clattering onto the counter. The baby. Jeremy’s baby. Not Zeke's at all.
The shower stops. I hear the curtain rings scrape against the rod, but I can't move. Can't breathe. Can't do anything but stand there, one hand pressed against my own swollen belly, as footsteps approach.
“Lex?” Jeremy's voice catches when he sees me. He's still dripping, a towel wrapped around his waist, another in his hands mid-dry of his hair. His eyes dart from my face to his phone on the counter.
“How long?” The words come out surprisingly steady.
“Alexis—”
“How. Long.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “Almost a year.”
A year. While I was planning date nights and trying to fix our marriage, while I was pregnant with his child... he was with my best friend.
“She's pregnant.” It's not a question.
His face drops. “Yes.”
“And it's yours.”
“Yes.” The word barely a whisper.
I press my hand harder against my stomach, “All those times she came over to help with the nursery... to check on me...when we would hang out… her giving me advice about what to do with us…”
“We were going to tell you.” He takes a step toward me. “After the first trimester, we?—”
“Don't.” I hold up my hand, stopping him. “Don't you dare try to explain how you were going to tell me that my husband and my best friend—” My voice breaks. “That you were going to have a baby with her while I'm carrying your child too.”
“I never meant?—”
“To what? To destroy everything? To make me question every memory, every moment?” The tears come hot and unstoppable. “Was anything real? Or were you thinking of her every time you held me, every time you kissed me, every time you talked about our future?”
He moves toward me again, but I back away. “Please, Lex, let me?—”
“Don't call me that.” My nickname feels poisoned now. “Don't you ever call me that again.”
I grab my keys from the hook by the door, my purse from the chair.
“Where are you going?” Panic edges into his voice. “You shouldn't drive like this?—”
“Like what, Jeremy? Pregnant? Betrayed?” A bitter laugh escapes me. “Don't worry. I won't do anything to hurt your child. Either of them.”
The door slams behind me with a finality that echoes through my bones. In my car, I sit with my hands gripping the steering wheel, watching the front door through tears. He doesn't follow me out.
Of course he doesn't.
My phone buzzes in my purse - Lilly's name lighting up the screen. The sight of it makes me want to drive into her house. I start the car, put it in drive, and leave behind the ruins of everything I thought I knew about love and friendship and forever.
My hands shake on the steering wheel as I drive, muscle memory guiding me through familiar streets. I don't realize where I'm heading until I see the cemetery gates rising before me. Usually, I visit in the early morning or at dusk, when the shadows are softer, when it's easier to pretend I'm just having a conversation with her.
I park, turning the car off and walking to her headstone.
“Hi, Mom,” I whisper, lowering myself carefully onto the sun-warmed grass. My hand instinctively goes to my belly.
“Jeremy and Lilly... they're having a baby. Just like us.” My voice cracks. “A whole year, Mom. They've been sneaking around for a whole year, and I never saw it. How can I be so blind? I can't even see what's right in front of me.”
My phone buzzes again in my purse. I've been ignoring the constant notifications - texts from Jeremy, calls from Lilly. Each one feels like another knife in my back.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I trace the dates on her headstone. “Our babies will be siblings. How am I supposed to handle that? How do I look at my child every day and not think about...” I can't finish the thought.
“I wish you were here,” I whisper. “I wish you could tell me what to do. Tell me how to be strong enough for this baby when I feel like I'm falling apart.”
I press my hand harder against my stomach, feeling the slight swell that's become more noticeable lately. “It's just you and me now, little one.” My voice steadies as I say it. “Well, you and me and Grandma watching over us.”
Mom always said changes come in seasons - that sometimes you have to let things die for new growth to take root. I never really understood what she meant until now.
My phone buzzes one more time.
Jeremy
Please come home. We need to talk. Think about the baby.
Me
Which one? Yours with me, or yours with my best friend?
The drive home feels both too long and too short. Every stoplight gives me time to second-guess myself, to wonder if I should just keep driving until I hit the coast, find some small beach town where nobody knows me or my story.
Jeremy's truck is still in the driveway when I pull up. Of course it is. Where else would he go? To Lilly's? The thought sends a fresh wave of nausea through me.
I sit in my car for a long moment, watching the porch light flicker.
The front door opens before I reach it. Jeremy stands in the doorway, dressed now, his hair still damp from the shower that feels like it happened a lifetime ago. His eyes are red-rimmed, but I force myself not to care.
“Lex—” He catches himself. “Alexis. Please, can we talk?”
I move past him into the house, keeping space between us. “About what? About how you've been sleeping with my best friend? About how you're having a baby with her? Or about how you both sat in our kitchen, planning our nursery, knowing what you'd done?”
“I never meant for any of this to happen.” His voice cracks. “It just... happened.”
“Things like this don't 'just happen,' Jeremy.” I turn to face him, arms crossed protectively over my stomach. “You made choices. Both of you. Every secret call, every lie, every time you looked me in the eye and pretended everything was fine – those were choices.”
He sinks onto the couch, head in his hands. “I know. God, I know. I tried to end it so many times, but?—”
“But what? You loved her too much? She needed you?” Bitter laughter bubbles up in my throat. “Or was it just easier to have us both? Me here playing house, her waiting in the wings?”
“It wasn't like that.”
“Then what was it like? Explain it to me, Jeremy. Help me understand how my husband and my best friend could do this to me.”
He looks up, tears streaming down his face. “We never planned... when you lost the baby last time, I was so lost. Lilly was there, she understood somehow, and one night we just...”
The mention of our lost baby hits me like a physical blow. “Don't you dare. Don't you dare use that as an excuse.” My voice shakes with fury. “I lost that baby too. I was grieving too. And instead of being there for me, you went to her?”
“I'm sorry.” The words hang in the air, inadequate and empty. “I'm so sorry.”
“Your 'sorry' means nothing to me. I'm going to pack some things. I can't... I can't stay here tonight.”
He stands quickly. “No, let me go. Please. This is your home. I'll go.”
“This stopped being my home the moment I saw those messages.” I head for the stairs, then pause.
“Tell her I hope she's happy with her choices. Tell her I hope it was worth it.”
In my bedroom, I start packing. Toiletries, my prenatal vitamins from the bathroom counter, some clothes. My hand hovers over the framed photo of Lilly and me at my wedding. With a swift motion, I turn it face-down.
When I come back downstairs with my bag, Jeremy's still there, looking lost in his own home.
“Where will you go?” he asks, his voice rough.
“A hotel.” I set my bag by the door. “And then... I don't know. Maybe California. Or Florida. Somewhere far from here.” The words come out steady, surprising me with their certainty. “Somewhere I don't have to watch you and Lilly play happy family.”
“You can't just leave.” Panic edges into his voice. “What about the baby? What about?—”
“What about your other baby?” I cut him off. “The one you're having with my best friend? Did you think about that when you were sneaking around behind my back?”
He steps toward me. “Please, we can figure this out. All of us. The kids should know each other, they're?—”
“Siblings?” The word tastes like acid. “And how exactly do you think that would work, Jeremy? Family picnics with your two pregnant women? Holiday dinners where I have to watch Lilly hold your hand across the table? Birthday parties where our kids ask why Mommy and Daddy's friend looks at him like she wants to—” My voice breaks.
“I'll do whatever you want,” he pleads. “Whatever you need. Just... don't take my child away.”
A bitter laugh escapes me.
“Don't try to find me.” I grab my bag, my keys. “Don't send Lilly to check on me. Don't call my friends or family asking where I've gone. You lost that right when you decided to start a second family behind my back.”
“Alexis, please?—”
“I'll have a lawyer contact you about custody arrangements. That's all you get from me now.” I open the door, and look at him one last time. “I trusted you with everything I had. My love, my friendship, my future. And you took it all and gave it to her instead.”
“I never meant to hurt you.” His voice is barely a whisper.
“But you did. Both of you did.” I turn to face him one last time. “You know what the worst part is? Even now, standing here knowing what you've done, part of me still loves you. And I hate myself for that more than I could ever hate you.”
With a loud bang, I slam the door and the smell of freshly cut grass fills the air as I rush to my car. I allow myself one last look at the house where I thought I'd raise my family, where I thought I'd grow old with the man I loved.
I start the engine, put the car in drive, and leave behind the ruins of everything I once believed in. This time, I don't look back.
My phone buzzes again.
Jeremy
Please don't go. I love you.
Fuck you.