Part 2I Got a Vasectomy, She Got Pregnant

The door slammed shut.

I sank onto the couch and, almost without meaning to, picked up my phone and opened Charles's social media page.

Brie had hired him as her assistant six months earlier. A recent college graduate and much younger than her.

His most recent post had gone up ten minutes ago.

[Running a fever. My head's killing me.]

Below it was a selfie of him slumped listlessly against his headboard.

The most recent comment was from Brie.

[Hang tight, I'll bring you some medicine. I'll take care of you.]

I stared at that comment until my fingers went cold.

Honestly, when Charles first showed up in our lives, I hadn't thought much of it. Brie and I had twenty years of history behind us. What could one man possibly do to a marriage that solid?

But little by little, I started noticing things weren't right.

Brie brought him up more and more, and always with more praise each time.

She said he was young and full of energy, that he told her about all the latest things online, and that he'd bring her coffee whenever she worked late.

Then, on Brie's birthday, I made a reservation and waited for her at the restaurant.

She stood me up.

She didn't answer her phone. She didn't reply to a single message.

She didn't come home until the middle of the night, and when I asked where she'd been, she said Charles had just gone through a breakup and she'd stayed to have a few drinks with him.

That annoyed me. Didn't a young man like Charles have any other friends? Did he really need his

boss to come console him?

That incident put me on guard.

So I went to Brie and tried to talk it through with her.

"Aren't you and Charles getting a little too close?"

She'd just laughed at me for being petty back then.

"What are you even thinking? He's basically a kid. I think of him like a little brother."

"A little brother who keeps you out drinking until the middle of the night?"

"He's out here on his own trying to make it in this city. Is it so wrong of me to look out for him a little?"

She frowned.

"Martin, we've known each other for twenty years. Do you really not know me by now?"

I chose to believe her.

It wasn't until later that I realized just how foolish I'd been.

Brie started coming home later and later. Her phone was always on silent, and the two of us had less and less to say to each other.

Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night and find her out on the balcony on the phone, her voice pitched low. The moment she saw I was awake, she'd hang up in a hurry.

I told myself it was the seven-year itch, that life had just gotten too flat and routine, which was exactly why I'd gone out of my way to plan something special for our anniversary.

I'd booked a trip. Plane tickets, a hotel, all of it.

Looking back now, it had all just been wishful thinking on my part.

The living room light stayed on all night.

I sat on the couch and watched the sky outside go from pitch black to gray to full daylight.

The whole time, Brie didn't send a single message back, the same as always, and she never picked up when I called.

At seven in the morning, the door finally opened.

She was home.

When Brie saw me sitting on the couch, her steps faltered for a second, then she walked straight past me toward the bedroom as if she hadn't seen me at all.

"Where were you?" I said, my voice rough.

She didn't even turn around.

"Changing for work."

"Let's get this out in the open."

I stood up, my legs so numb I nearly stumbled.

She finally stopped and turned to face me, exhaustion and irritation written all over her face, plain for anyone to see.

"What is there to talk about?"

"That baby is Charles's, isn't it?"

I stared straight at her.

"When did it start between you two?"

She went quiet for a few seconds, then clicked her tongue.

"Martin, can't we just keep living like this, a little confused about things? Why do you have to dig everything up?"

"You," I started, but she cut me off before I could finish.

"Fine, I'll tell you. The baby is Charles's.

"That time you were away on a business trip, there was this huge storm, thunder and everything, and I was scared, so I called him. He came over to keep me company."

Brie paused, her eyes sliding away from mine.

"We'd both had too much to drink. It just happened. We couldn't help it."

"You couldn't help it?" I was shaking with anger. "Brie, we're married. You call that not being able to help it?"