Chapter 2 - THE TRACE IN THE VANITY
The drive back to our townhouse was a blur of tears, flashing red taillights, and the roaring sound of my own pulse in my ears.
My mind was spinning out of control. He sampled my urine. He tested me in secret. He told his mother before even asking me. The sheer violation of it was sickening. But beneath the anger, a darker, far more terrifying question was scratching at the back of my brain:
If I wasn't pregnant, why did the test show two lines?
There are only a few reasons a pregnancy test shows a false positive. Exogenous hormones. Certain rare medical conditions. Or... ovarian cysts. Tumors.
A cold spike of dread shot through my chest. Was I sick? Did Daniel accidentally discover something terrible wrong with my body?
I pulled into the driveway, slammed the car into park, and rushed inside, locking the deadbolt behind me. I ran upstairs to the master bathroom.
I flipped on the overhead vanity lights. The room looked entirely innocent. White subway tiles, neatly folded towels, my expensive face creams sitting beside the sink.
I opened the small trash can under the vanity. It had been emptied. Daniel must have cleared it out before we left for his parents' house.
I opened the drawers. Nothing.
I opened his side of the vanity. Buried beneath his shaving kit and extra deodorant, I found it: a blue cardboard box of clear-result digital pregnancy tests.
Two were missing from the foil wrappers.
I grabbed the remaining test stick, my hands trembling. I stared at it. Then I pulled open the bottom drawer where I kept my own feminine hygiene products.
I grabbed my box of tampons. I grabbed my cycle tracking journal.
My period had started Wednesday morning. It was lighter than usual, sure, but it was definitely my period. Or was it? Was it spotting? Was I having a miscarriage? Was my body failing me?
The front door unlocked downstairs.
Heavy, hurried footsteps echoed up the wooden stairs.
"Emma?!" Daniel’s voice was frantic. "Emma, please!"
I shoved the box of tests into my purse, locked the bathroom door from the inside, and backed away toward the shower.
"Emma, open the door!" Daniel banged his fist against the wood. "Please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, please just talk to me!"
"Stay away from me, Daniel!" I screamed through the door. "You violated my privacy! You crept around behind my back like a stalker!"
"I was excited!" he yelled back, his voice cracking with dry, hysterical sobs. "Emma, we've been married for three years! My mom has been asking about grandbabies constantly! You were sick, you were tired, and when I saw the test turn positive, I lost my mind! I thought our dream was coming true!"
"It wasn't your dream to steal!" I sobbed back. "You didn't ask me! You didn't talk to me! You went behind my back to your mother!"
"I told my mom because I was overwhelmed!" he pleaded through the paneling. "I didn't know how to ask you! I thought you were keeping it a secret from me! I thought you didn't want the baby because of your job!"
I went completely still.
The room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"What did you just say?" I asked, my voice suddenly very quiet.
Silence fell on the other side of the door.
"Daniel," I said, stepping closer to the door. "What did you just say?"
"I... I thought you were keeping it from me," he stammered out. "Because of the promotion. You said last month that if you got pregnant now, the partners would give the senior position to Mark instead of you."
I pressed my forehead against the cold wood of the door.
He thought I was hiding a pregnancy from him.
He didn't just run a secret test out of excitement. He ran it out of suspicion. He thought I was pregnant and planning to silently end it or keep it hidden so I wouldn't lose a corporate promotion. He had spied on me because he didn't trust me.
"You think so little of me," I whispered.
"No! Emma, no!" he slammed his hands against the door. "I was terrified! I panicked!"
"I am going to the doctor tomorrow morning," I said, wiping the cold tears from my cheeks. "And tonight, you are sleeping in the guest room. If you try to open this door, I am calling the police."
"Emma—"
"Guest room, Daniel. Now."
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I heard his hands slide down the wood. A heavy sigh escaped him, followed by the slow, defeated sound of his footsteps dragging down the hallway toward the spare bedroom.
I sat down on the cold bathroom tile, hugged my knees to my chest, and wept until my throat was raw.
