Secret Wives

Chapter 2

She’d been sleeping with my husband. The only man I’d ever loved. The only man I’d ever kissed. The only man I’d ever known. And here she was telling me that she’d loved him. That he told her we would all meet and be one big happy family. She knew about our children. She knew about our baby from four years ago who was still born after nine months. She knew about the miscarriage at 14 weeks two years later.

There was one thing I wanted to know, no needed to know. The one thing that I cried about in secret every month since the miscarriage. I could barely get my lips to move, but I forced it out.

“Did you get pregnant?” There it was. The one thing that could make everything worse than it already was. The one thing that was greater than this betrayal itself. The one thing I hadn’t been able to do in the last four years was give him another living child. I held my breath waiting for this woman to devastate me further.

“No. James made sure that I was on birth control. He said he didn’t want more children.”

Tears fell from my eyes in rivulets. I took in deep gulps of air, but couldn’t seem to catch my breath. All I wanted was to have another baby. His baby. To pour all of my love into someone. To have someone who loved me completely. Needed me. This house felt like bones with no flesh. He was at work all day, 12 hour shifts. I was home alone for 14 hours. There wasn’t enough cooking and cleaning and reading and writing and primping and exercising and chatting on the phone in the world for just one person all alone. I needed a baby. Then this empty feeling inside would go away. Then I wouldn’t be so lonely. Why was God punishing me?

“I tried to call you. Twice.” Tameeka confessed. “Once after the miscarriage and the second time was after he accused you of cheating.”

“He told you about that?” This woman knew everything. During his first visit to Africa after my birthday in California, I’d gotten pregnant. Little did I know that itching and burning that led to a yeast infection was because my husband was having sex with another woman. It was easy enough to treat though, and I didn’t think anything of it at the time. The pregnancy was a relief. Although the doctors said that there was no reason why I couldn’t get pregnant, for some reason, I assumed that I’d never be able to get pregnant again. Every month went by with my period coming strong and regular. I yearned to miss it, just once. And then it happened. I was immediately sick. But I didn’t care. Let the vomiting begin. Pregnancy always racked my body. From painful pockets of gas in my shoulder and side, to aching joints, dizziness, and constant nausea to daily vomiting and a throat so raw from the stomach bile that it hurt to swallow. I was going to be miserable for the next nine months and I welcomed it with glee. James was by my side. My loss was our shared pain. He doted on me. Spending his days working on projects around the city and his evenings laying in bed beside me watching TV. He kept his phone on the bedside table. I thought it was so he wouldn't be distracted during our time together.

14 weeks later, I doubled over in excruciatingly painful cramps. Blood dripped from my legs. The baby was gone. He left the very next day. Little did I know he was going back to her.

James was scheduled to begin his new assignment that week. There was no thought of pushing his start date back by a week or two so I wouldn't be going through this alone. In fact, he asked for the last money I had in my savings account to help him get set up when he got back to the states. I didn't know he was already set up. I lay in the bed with cramps racking my body. Bereft and weeping, I was alone again.

To be continued...

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.