The Price of Abandonment

My husband and I go on a road trip back to my hometown before Christmas. I want to ride shotgun, but he chases me to the backseat so his female colleague can sit in front.

He says, "Isabel gets carsick easily. You are my wife, so you should be more considerate of her."

He seems to have forgotten that I'm pregnant—my morning sickness is at its peak. Halfway through the journey, he and Isabel Slater start smoking. They make me throw up.

The smell disgusts them, and my husband wants to teach me a lesson. He and Isabel leave me at the rest stop.

Unbeknownst to them, my family is already waiting there. This time, I'm going back with them and getting an abortion and divorce.

Later, my husband is filled with regret when he learns the child is gone.

This year, my husband, Elias Alston, and I had planned to drive back to our hometown to celebrate Christmas.

He left the house early this morning, and I figured he was out picking up some local specialties. But when I opened the passenger door, I was stunned to find a woman already sitting there.

I knew her from Elias' Instagram posts. She was in his department, and I believed her name was Isabel Slater. She was young and undeniably beautiful.

As I stood there, caught off guard, Isabel turned to me with a bright smile. "Hello, Renee."

Before I could process what was happening, two men in the back seat chimed in, "Morning, Renee!"

I froze, my gaze shifting to Elias, my mind swirling with confusion.

"We're all from the same hometown, so I figured we could give them a ride," he explained.

"Why didn't you let me know earlier?" I demanded.

"Sorry, Renee," Isabel said gently. "Elias was afraid you might refuse, so he decided not to bring it up. Please don't be angry with him."

I bit back my anger, not wanting to create a scene and embarrass Elias. "Could you move to the back, Ms. Slater? I'd like to sit in the front."

"Isabel gets carsick," Elias cut in. "Renee, you're my wife, so try to understand. There's no need to be so possessive right now."

"I'm pregnant, Elias!" I shot back. "I've been so sick from morning sickness for days, didn't you realize?"

Tears pooled in Isabel's eyes, and she said quietly, "I'm sorry, Renee. I'll move to the back."

But Elias kept her seated and barked, "Stop making such a fuss just because you're pregnant, Renee! Guests come first! Now get in the back and hurry up!"

My fists tightened at my sides as several pairs of eyes turned toward me. Thinking of the baby I was carrying and Mom and Dad waiting for me at home, I bit my tongue and climbed into the back seat.

I never realized that holding back my anger then would only lead to even more humiliation later.

I squeezed into the back seat next to the two men, noticing how Elias completely ignored me while bantering with Isabel.

Noticing my discomfort in the rearview mirror, Isabel put on a concerned act. "You look a little cramped back there, Renee. Maybe we can switch seats at the next rest area."

Before I could get a word out, Elias said awkwardly, "She's gained quite a bit of weight with the pregnancy. Walter, Hubert, is she taking up too much space?"

Walter Spiel and Hubert Locke, sitting with their legs stretched out, swiftly tucked them in and laughed. "No, not at all."

"Great. Don't worry about Renee," Elias said. "She's my wife, and it's only right for her to make sure you're all taken care of."

His words pierced me like a blade, cutting deep into my heart.

Our relationship had always been strong, from the start of our dating to our marriage. But everything changed once Isabel became his colleague.

At first, she was just "the new intern" Elias talked about. Then, he started mentioning how sharp and driven she was.

Eventually, he stopped saying her name, but her face began showing up in his Instagram posts. They were always side by side in the pictures, smiling sweetly.

Whenever I asked him about her, he'd lash out in frustration. "Renee! I work my tail off every day, and you still manage to find something to blow up over? Maybe you should just lock me up at home if you're that paranoid!"

That day, we had a huge argument. He stormed out of the house and didn't return for a whole week, leaving me—pregnant—crying day after day.

Now, everything made sense. I hadn't been paranoid at all. He'd lashed out because he was guilty all along.