Chapter 2 - THE QUESTION HE HAD NO RIGHT TO ASK
Thomas stared at Amelia as rain slid off the edge of the supermarket awning.
“Thirty-one weeks,” he repeated.
“That’s what I said.”
“You knew you were pregnant when I left.”
“I found out eleven days after you moved into your penthouse.”
His face tightened. “Why didn't you tell me?”
Amelia almost laughed. The question was so breathtakingly unfair that for a moment she couldn't find an answer.
“You changed your phone number. Your lawyer instructed mine to direct all communication through his office. And when I sent you an email, you replied that you needed space and didn't want personal complications interfering with the company's restructuring.”
Thomas blinked.
“I never said—”
“I still have the email.”
The words silenced him.
For six months, Amelia had replayed that message in her mind, trying to understand how a man who once cried when their elderly dog died could reduce the possibility of his own child to a personal complication.
Now she watched him struggle with the consequences of his own language.
Sarah stepped beneath the awning.
“Thomas, we should discuss this privately.”
Amelia looked at her. “You have had six months of private conversations with my husband. I'm sure you'll survive five minutes without another one.”
Sarah's cheeks colored.
Thomas barely noticed. He was still looking at Amelia's stomach.
“Does the baby have a name?”
“Not yet.”
“Have you had prenatal care?”
“Yes.”
“Are you seeing a good doctor?”
“An excellent one.”
“Are you paying for all this yourself?”
Amelia's patience snapped.
“You don't get to turn up in my workplace and conduct an inspection because you've finally noticed the consequences of your decisions.”
His expression hardened reflexively. It was the look that had once made senior executives apologize before he had finished speaking.
It no longer worked on her.
“I want to help.”
“You wanted to help when I was crying on our kitchen floor the night you told me you were leaving. You wanted to help when I asked you to sit down and discuss our marriage. You wanted to help when I called your office because our joint account had suddenly been frozen.”
“I didn't freeze—”
“Your lawyer did. On your instructions.”
He fell silent.
Sarah glanced toward the street, clearly calculating how to escape without making the situation worse.
Amelia noticed.
“Did you know I was pregnant before today?” she asked.
Sarah's gaze returned to her.
“No.”
It was a quick answer.
Too quick.
Amelia didn't challenge her. She had learned that desperate people revealed more when they believed they had gotten away with something.
Thomas pulled a business card from his wallet.
“Call me tomorrow. We'll arrange a doctor, a proper apartment, whatever you need.”
Amelia looked at the card without taking it.
“I have an apartment.”
“Where?”
“That's not your concern.”
“I'm the father.”
“You just asked me whether the baby was yours in the middle of a supermarket.”
“I was shocked.”
“So was I when I discovered my husband had been sleeping with his assistant.”
Sarah flinched.
Thomas turned toward her.
“Go to the car.”
“Thomas—”
“Now.”
Sarah's mouth tightened, but she walked away.
Amelia watched her disappear through the rain.
“Don't confuse this with a reconciliation,” she told him. “You don't get your marriage back because you discovered I'm carrying your child.”
“I haven't asked for that.”
“Not yet.”
She returned to the store before he could answer.
That night, Amelia took the subway home to her one-bedroom apartment in Queens. Her feet hurt. Her back hurt. The baby had spent most of the evening pressing against her ribs as if she, too, disapproved of the conversation.
Amelia heated soup, kicked off her shoes, and sat at the small kitchen table.
Then she opened her laptop.
A new email waited in her inbox.
The sender was Thomas's attorney.
Subject: Emergency Discussion Regarding Marital Assets and Potential Paternity Matters
The message requested that Amelia attend a meeting the following morning. It mentioned financial disclosures, the upcoming birth, and an alleged discrepancy in the documentation surrounding her departure from the marital residence.
She read the final paragraph twice.
Thomas's legal team intended to challenge the terms of their separation agreement.
Amelia had signed no final divorce settlement. Their marriage was still legally intact. The separation paperwork had been preliminary, and her attorney had warned her that Thomas's financial team might attempt to use his company's resources to pressure her into accepting less than she was entitled to.
She had refused to sign.
That was why she was working at Grand Foods.
She needed an income independent of Thomas's lawyers, his company, and his generosity. She wanted to enter motherhood knowing she could buy diapers without asking permission from a man who had once controlled every account attached to her name.
She closed the email and pressed a hand against her belly.
“It's going to be okay,” she whispered.
Her phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
You shouldn't have spoken to Thomas outside the store. Sarah is dangerous when she feels cornered.
Amelia sat upright.
She typed, Who is this?
The reply came almost immediately.
Someone who knows why Sarah wanted you out of that marriage before you discovered what Thomas was really hiding.
A second message appeared.
Check the bottom drawer of your old desk. The one they told you had been emptied.
Amelia's breath caught.
Her old desk stood in storage at the McCauley Foundation's former administrative office. Thomas had claimed the contents were boxed and transferred to their apartment after she moved out.
She had never checked.
A final message arrived.
Your baby isn't the only thing Thomas doesn't know about.
Then the number went silent.
Amelia stared at the screen until it dimmed.
For the first time since her husband had left, she felt something more unsettling than heartbreak.
May you like
She felt watched.
And somewhere inside Thomas McCauley's world, someone had been waiting for her to ask the right question.
