Helen settled in the living room, the silence heavy like an unwelcome weight. The only sound in the room, the soft ticking of the wall clock, reminded her that time was going—time she no longer wanted to count.

Her mind a mist of thoughts, she subconsciously followed the edge of her coffee mug, her fingers fluttered slightly. None of the questions gnawed at her throughout the long, sleepless night could be answered. \n \n She had only arrived from the hospital early that morning.

The doctor's words pulsed in her mind like an unusual symphony: *You're pregnant, Helen. Your baby is now. The child was not anybody's kid. This offspring was Jack's. She ought to have felt something, should have been elated, but she did not. No happiness came from the news. Not today at all. Not after everything that had turned out.

For months now, Jack had withdrawn. At first there were minor indicators—forgotten anniversaries, the sudden late work hours, the missed phone calls. But everything changed when she discovered the lipstick on his shirt collar, the one that was not hers, the one she was sure didn belonged to anyone he worked with.

He didn't even attempt to hide it. Though he was not one to be totally truthful either, Jack was not one to fib. \n \n The door banging wide open disrupted her thinking. \n \n Jack's fists clenched at his sides in the doorway, his face red with fury.

Once warm and love for her, his eyes were now cold and free of any compassion.

"Helen," he howled, his voice cutting, "I want a divorce." The words stung her as a slap to the face. The way she felt she knew everything came undone was as if the planet moved below her. Her stomach turned and her heart pained. Things were not meant to be like this. Her trust, her love, her dedication she had provided him. And still, here he was saying she is over. Jack waited not for an answer. His eyes on hers, he tore into the room. He appeared more furious than she had ever seen him. "I'm seeing Jane," he snapped out, as though he had just revealed a new line of sneakers. Your worst enemy. the one who really knows how to make me happy. Helen is better than you. She is more sensitive, finer, and more affectionate. She truly pays attention when I speak; not like you." \n \n Helen's throat clenched as she fought to consume the lump of bitterness rising inside her. Jane? The idea of it made her stomach turn with a combination of shock and treachery; this very same Jane with whom she had been loved for years? How might Jack accomplish this? How could he betray her with the one person she trusted most? Jane wasnuggested completed. "You at most can't give me a child," he went on venomously. "I maybe do not even know why I am still here. For years you have been infertile. I must not continue living like this. I need someone who can provide me the future—someone who can fulfill me. Helen blinked, his words piercing her heart like stings. She opened her mouth to talk, to justify herself, to describe how she had exhausted every means to conceive, but the words caught in her throat. It was pointless. Jack had his mind fixed. Already left, he would not change no matter what she said. \n \n Her lips released a cold, derisive laugh, a hushed sound that sounded like it echoed all over the otherwise quiet room. "You believe it is that simple?" she said, her voice full of feeling trembling. "You believe you can simply discard everything we have developed because you found someone else? Simply younger, simply prettier, simply someone who can give you children?" Jack's eyes stiffened, his jaw set, and he walked a step toward her. Absolutely. Whenever first person pronouns are used in sentences, I respond. I have had it with you, Helen. There is no need for me to justify myself. Simply sign the documents. It has come to an end. \n \n The publications here in the magazines As noted in the divorce filing. They were already upon the table, an icy reminder of the lastness of this instant. Jack was finished.

For their marriage, he did not want to battle. Her side, her sorrow, he refused to sympathize with her. Just wanted out he did. \n \n Helen's hand shaking, she gazed at the papers for a long moment and reached for the pen. The pen felt heavier than it should have, as if it bore the weight of all the decades they had spent together. She knew, though, what she had to do. She had to release four times.

Signing her name, she let the ink gush from her pen like a submission. Her heart felt heavy, and she thought she was perishing inside. Jack left her and she couldn could not stop it.

Jack still had no knowledge, though, that Helen was expecting his baby. She only discovered it that morning and nevertheless had not informed him. She was not willing to. She could not tell him literally herself. After all, after the way he had treated her, how might she justify turning to him and saying he was going to be a father? That he was going to have a child he never asked for? Jack was not befitting of a father. Not to her baby. Helen inhaled deeply and blinked her eye's tears away. They had started to well in her eyes. Jack was not able to see herself this way. She could not let him see how much his words pained her, how much his treachery had broken her. She would would maintain the secret. Should she have to, she would singlehandedly bring up their kid. \n \n One more look at Jack, she got to her feet, her shoulders square, her face deadpan. She passed him, his cologne's odor still permeating the air, but she didn't stop. She remained stationary. She fell apart. \n \n Her voice barely erupted from inside her as she said softly, "I'll pack my things." "You can choose Jane. You are free. But never come back here, Jack.

Stunned and fuming, Jack remained immobile. He did not get it. He got it not. Unbekanntlich trug sie sein Kind, das Kind, das er so dringend haben wollte, aber nie wertgeschätzt hatte. He was unaware that the truth of what he had lost would be revealed in a couple of months. Helen gathered her things and did not turn back. She was finished here. Jack would also never understand the actual price of his activities. The house felt emptier than it had ever been as the door crashed behind her.