Love Wanders Between First Love and Current Love

The day my husband took me for a pregnancy check-up, he got a call from his old-flame. Just a simple “I miss you,” and he left me standing on the curb without a second thought.

I expected to lose it, to yell and scream at him, but I didn't. I just stayed quiet and calmly booked an appointment for an abortion the next day. But when my husband found out, he completely lost it, practically shoving his ‘beloved’ out of his arms, begging me in tears to forgive him.

Today was supposed to be the day Kris Blanchard, my husband, took me to the hospital for a pregnancy check-up. Halfway there, his old-love, Fern Robbins, called to tell him her son had a high fever. Without any explanation, he told me—his three months old pregnant wife—to get out of the car and drove straight to Fern’s house, which was in the opposite direction.

He left me stranded on a deserted road. The heavy snow that night had turned everything into an icy mess and I slipped and fell. Pain shot through my stomach like a hundred needles stabbing at once. A kind stranger found me and drove me to the hospital. I was so glad to hear the doctor said my baby was fine.

After the check-up, I kept calling Kris, hoping he’d come pick me up, but he never answered. Call after call went to voicemail or a busy signal. But when Fern called him, he picked up right away. It reminded me of how things were before we got married—his phone was always on, always waiting for my call. I went home, my heart heavy and just collapsed on the bed.

Kris came back around 1 a.m., annoyed and muttering under his breath as he walked in.

“You went to bed already? You didn’t even leave the light on for me.”

I used to wait for him no matter how late he came home. And if I fell asleep, I’d leave the bedside lamp on. But tonight, I just didn’t have it in me to care. I turned over, facing away from him and leave his questions on air.

He clicked his tongue in irritation. “Are you serious right now? Fern’s son had a 102-degree fever. If I hadn’t taken them to the hospital, he could’ve ended up with brain damage. Show a little compassion, would you?”

“Did you think about me at all when you left me on the curb in the middle of a snowstorm? Did you even care if I managed to get to the hospital or not? I’m pregnant, for heaven’s sake—with our baby!” I snapped.

“Who’s your wife, Kris? Is Fern so incapable that she can’t call 911 on her own? Why does she have to ask someone else’s husband to deal with her problem?” I kept going.

Kris let out a long, exasperated sigh, looking at me like I was losing hold.

“Don’t be so petty, Elodie. Fern’s just return from England. Her British husband divorced her and she doesn’t have anyone else here. I’m the only person she knows. Things hasn’t been easy for her. Raising a kid alone is draining. If there’s something I can do to help her, then I had to.

“For her?” I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “Then why don’t you just divorce me and go be with her? That’s what you want, right?”

The more I talked, the more my heart hurt. I remembered the days before we got married. The Kris I used to know would put me first in everything. When I had even a slight cold, he’d be frantic, rushing me to the hospital, ignoring urgent calls from his boss in the process.  But now, he was like a stranger, indifferent and distant.

Maybe he saw the heartbreak on my face, because he softened a little, stepping closer and wrapping me in his arms.

“Come on, don’t be mad, honey. Forgive me this one time. I swear I’ll never do it again,” he said softly, trying to soothe me. One of his hands slipped under my collar while his lips brushing against my neck. “I’ve missed you. It’s been a while since we’ve done it.” I slapped his hand away, hard.

“What do you mean, a while? We just did it last month! The doctor warned me—no more sex until after the baby’s born, or I could miscarry.”

“Alright, alright,” Kris muttered, clearly frustrated as he let me go. He grabbed his phone and whatever he saw made his whole face light up. His eyes went soft and gentle and he looked completely absorbed. I called his name, but he wasn’t answering. It was like he didn’t even hear me.

While he was in the shower, I picked up his phone from the bedside table. To my surprise, he had changed the lock screen password. It used to be my birthday. After several failed attempts, I tried entering 1123 and it worked.