He Loved Her, Not Our Baby

After her breakup, my best friend fell into a deep depression.

She decided every man was worthless, and every single day she pushed me to leave my boyfriend.

Jim Butler, at a loss, kept finding ways to win her over.

Treating her to meals. Sending her gifts and flowers.

The way he fussed over her, eager to please, looked like more effort than he ever put into me.

I assumed he did it for the sake of our future.

I never thought twice about it.

Not until that camping trip in the countryside, when Jim suddenly shoved me into the water.

My belly hit a rock, and the pain left me unable to straighten up.

He just pointed at the sorry state I was in and burst out laughing.

"Charity Pruitt, look at her. Doesn't Mary Henson look exactly like a drowned dog right now?"

Seeing Charity laugh through her tears, Jim quickly held out the grilled burger in his hand.

"There you go, that's a smile. Smile and you'll have an appetite to eat."

"As long as you don't object to me and Mary being together, I'll find a way to cheer you up every single day."

So his way of cheering her up was making a fool of me?

Pressing my hand to my throbbing belly, I suddenly felt it.

The three of us, our relationship, it had shifted into something different.

…

Yesterday morning, I'd found out I was three months pregnant.

I'd planned to surprise Jim with the news today.

But now, because of this little joke,

my baby had nearly died in the cold lake water.

I dragged myself up out of the water and called out without thinking.

"Jim, my stomach really hurts. Can you take me to the hospital first…"

I called a few more times. No answer.

When I turned, I saw him and Charity laughing together a little way off.

Jim, who hated the smell of cooking smoke and never once set foot in our kitchen at home,

was standing in front of the grill now, sweat pouring down his face.

He held a fresh skewer up to Charity's lips, his face full of that eager-to-please smile.

"Lots of cumin, no chili, beef done medium. Try it, see if it tastes right."

"And if it gets too rich for you, here's the fresh-squeezed watermelon juice you love."

"The watermelon was chilled, and the juice is just squeezed."

No wonder he'd made a point of taking my things out before we left this morning.

It turned out he was clearing space so Charity could set up her juicer.

It left a bad taste in my mouth.

But I didn't know what to say.

After hesitating a moment, I took an Uber to the hospital myself.

Halfway there, Jim called on video.

"Mary, where did you go?"

"Charity couldn't find you just now and she was worried sick."

When I called him, he couldn't hear me.

But the second Charity asked, he panicked.

The one he cared about, was it me, or my best friend?

I turned my face away, feeling a wronged ache I couldn't explain.

"I'm not feeling well. I'm going to get checked at the hospital."

Charity leaned in beside him.

"What's wrong, Mary, where does it hurt? Do you want us to come be with you right now?"

Jim glanced at her, smiled, and said a few times that it was nothing.

Then he grabbed the phone back and dropped his voice low.

"Mary, can you stop making a scene?"

"It was just a joke. Do you really have to throw me a look like that?"

"There are so many people here. Do you have any idea how much you're embarrassing me!"

The one who was really humiliated was me, the one shoved into the water in front of everyone.

To get Charity to come on this trip, Jim had spent a whole week patiently begging her.

Washing dishes, mopping floors, saying every nice thing he could think of.

And me leaving early because I wasn't feeling well,

in his eyes that made me the difficult one, throwing a fit over nothing.

My body hurt too much. I didn't have the strength to argue.

I hung up in silence, got out of the car, and walked into the hospital.

The hospital was crowded today, and the air conditioning had been turned down very low.