I Found My Boyfriend Signing As Another Woman’s Husband Chapter 01

I Found My Boyfriend Signing As Another Woman’s Husband Chapter 01

The second day after my boyfriend went back to his hometown for a wedding, I ran into him at the OB-GYN department of Metropolitan Central General Hospital.

He froze the moment he saw me.

But his hand was still resting on the small of another woman’s back.

She reacted faster than he did.

Leaning naturally into Caleb Vance’s arms, she tilted her head and looked me over, her bright eyes carrying a kind of curious innocence. “Caleb, is this lady a friend of yours?”

Right then, a nurse walked up and handed him a form. “Please confirm the information and sign in the ‘husband’ section.”

I stood a step away and watched as Caleb signed his name without the slightest hesitation.

As he handed the form back, a sheet slipped out from the medical file and fluttered down to my feet.

…

“24 weeks pregnant.”

The words on the ultrasound report blurred for a second.

Next to them, in the signature box, was Caleb Vance’s name, written in the same bold, flowing strokes he used when he signed my birthday cards.

When I bent down to pick it up, my fingers trembled. Not from fear. From holding too much strength in.

I handed the report back, my voice steady. “Yeah. We’re just friends.”

I heard my own voice. Dry, rough, like sandpaper scraping glass. “Congratulations on becoming a father, Mr. Vance.”

Caleb’s Adam’s apple bobbed sharply.

He stepped forward and reached for my wrist. “Clara, just listen to me…”

“Oh.” The woman suddenly pressed a hand to her stomach, her brows knitting as her voice softened just enough for everyone nearby to hear. “Caleb, my stomach feels tight. Is the baby kicking again…?”

His hand froze midair.

Halfway extended, then slowly pulled back.

I stared at that suspended arm and, for some reason, felt like laughing.

Three years.

Turns out his arms were long enough.

They just always reached for someone else first.

I forced a small smile. “My cousin’s waiting for the water I went to buy. I should get back.”

When I turned, my leg bumped into a sterilization cabinet in the hallway. A dull ache shot through my knee.

I didn’t look back.

I didn’t stop walking.

…

Back in the maternity waiting area, my cousin was leaning back in her chair, scrolling on her phone. She looked up and immediately complained, “What took you so long? It’s just water. I’ve been dying of thirst.”

“The elevator was out. Took the stairs,” I said, handing her the bottle before sitting down beside her. I kept my head lowered, staring at the tip of my shoes.

She didn’t notice anything off. She kept chatting about which store we should check out later for a crib. Her voice felt distant, like it was coming from another room. I didn’t catch a single word.

I unlocked my phone.

My most recent messages were still with Caleb.

11:47 PM last night.

[I’m back in my hometown for a wedding with my mom. Signal’s bad, might not be easy to take calls these couple days.]

There was a kissing emoji right after.

I stared at that emoji for a long time.

A wedding.

Bad signal.

Right.

…

After picking up my cousin’s medication, I walked her home.

At her door, I smiled and told her to rest well. The moment the door closed, the expression on my face collapsed.

I drove back to my apartment.

The living room lights were off.

I sat on the couch, staring at the pair of size-10 men’s slippers by the entryway. Gray. I had picked them out for him online last winter. He said they were ugly, but he still wore them.

Three years ago, he had carried me two blocks to the hospital on his back.

I had a fever of 103.6. He had been so panicked his voice cracked, yelling at me the whole way for not taking care of myself.

By the time we reached the ER, he was drenched in sweat, his eyes red as he looked at me.

I remembered that look for three years.

Thinking back on it now, it felt like a dull blade sawing through my chest, over and over again.

…

At eleven that night, I heard the lock turn.

Caleb walked in, carrying a faint scent with him.

Chamomile.

Not mine.

He stopped when he realized the room was dark.

I didn’t move. Curled deep into the couch, I spoke softly, “Was the wedding lively?”

His motion of taking off his coat stopped completely.