Love is free
Every month, like clockwork, my wife, Sarah
Miller, would go on a “business trip” during
her ovulation period. We’d been married for
years, but still no kids. I decided to surprise
her one trip, flew out to her city, and saw her
leaving a fertility clinic with Ethan Reed, a
hotshot doctor who’d just returned from
studying abroad. Turns out, those “business trips” were for artificial insemination – with
Ethan’s sperm.
When I confronted her, she was totally unapologetic. “I’m just borrowing his genes, honey. I want our child to have the best possible start. Does the biological connection really matter? The kid will still call you Dad.”
“Divorce,” I said. I wasn’t about to be
anyone’s patsy. This kid? Whoever wanted to
be the father could be the father. Not me.
After they left the clinic, I slipped the
receptionist some cash and got the whole
story. Artificial insemination. My wife. And
Ethan. Great. Just great.
I flew home that night. Sarah arrived shortly
after, kicked off her heels, and collapsed on
the couch. “Honey, my feet are killing me.
Foot rub?”
I sat on the other end of the couch, scrolling
through my phone, pretending not to hear.
She waited, her perfectly pedicured toes, still
encased in black stockings, wiggling
<
expectantly. When I didn’t jump up with the
basin and hot water, she looked surprised.
“Mark? Did you hear me?”
“Yeah.” My eyes stayed glued to the phone.
“Well? If you’re too tired, I can just go to that fancy foot spa again. You did just load my
account with another ten grand, after all.” She smiled, then ran her foot up my leg. “But
I prefer your touch. You know I love it when
you pamper me.” She winked. “And you always said you loved rewarding me.”
I glanced at her flat stomach, then pushed her leg away and stood up.
Confusion flickered across her face. “Mark, what’s wrong? Is something bothering you?”
<
“Nothing. I’m tired. Going to bed.”
I went to the bedroom and lay down. Sarah
followed, a small, elegantly wrapped box in
her hand. “Honey, I got you something on my
trip. Want to open it?”
Her fake enthusiasm irritated me. A gift from
her trip? Probably a nice, shiny green hat. I
ripped the wrapping off. Inside were three
watches, two large, one small. I took one look
and tossed the box in the trash.
Sarah froze. “Mark! What was that about?
Don’t you want a baby? We’re going to have
one! These are matching Rolexes, a family
set. I had to pull some strings to get them.”
I saw right through her innocent act. “Pull
<
“Well, yeah. I don’t know much about
watches, so I asked his opinion. He said they
were the latest thing, impossible to find here. What’s the big deal?”
“No big deal. You and him…no big deal at all. Keep them. Wear them with your new family.”
“Mark! Don’t be ridiculous. Are you seriously throwing a tantrum? Over this? You want a
divorce?”
“Yes.”
Her face hardened. “Mark, I told you before we got married, Ethan is like a brother to me. My parents practically raised him, and they made me promise to look after him. When did you get so petty? Are you even a man?”
<
I almost laughed. “You’re unbelievable. I’m
tired. We’re sleeping separately. You take the
guest room.”
I didn’t need to look back to know she’d
retrieve the watches from the trash and treat
them like sacred relics. Perfect for their little
family.
Lying awake in the guest room, I kept thinking
about the summer we met…
