CHAPTER TWO - NOT WORTHY

My vision blurred as I watched Caleb’s receding figure.  He had turned his back on me and was now continuing his climb up the stairs - presumably to retire for the night -  leaving me standing on the landing with my head tilted backward, chasing his rigid back with shadowed eyes. 

I did not move from my position until he was well out of my sight. 

Then, his words slowly sank in, and something in my head shifted. 

Caleb’s brushing me off shouldn’t be the end of us.   

Hurriedly, I followed him upstairs.  My feet created a staccato rhythm as they landed hard on each step. 

I went to our bedroom, disappointed to find it empty. My eyes swept over the still well-made bed and grimaced. The bed looked lonely, as desolate as I was feeling. 

Since our heated row last week, Caleb stopped sharing the master’s bedroom with me.  I thought it was his way of cooling his head off, of giving us space to think.   I did not realize that he was already making a bold statement - that he was about to impose a permanent irreparable change into our lives. 

With mounting urgency,  I knocked on the guest room’s door next to the master’s bedroom. The door remained closed.  It was as if Caleb was trying his hardest to ignore me. 

My fists clenched.  

If he is persistent, then, I’ll have to show him the meaning of the word. I pummeled on his door relentlessly until Caleb’s scowling face greeted me.  His annoyed look did not faze me in the slightest. 

By now, Caleb has changed into his pajamas. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and my heart melted.   

“Caleb, can we talk this out?  You can not just spring divorce on me. What did  I do wrong?” I asked. 

“Talking things out will not do us any good, Cassy. Let us just accept the fact that we made a mistake in marrying hastily.  We were not meant to be so let us leave it at that.” He declared. 

“But what about our baby?  I am pregnant, Caleb.” I told him.  This is my last ditch effort to save our marriage. 

Caleb looked stunned. 

For a moment,  I thought I saw a softening in his expression. I really thought he would change his mind about divorcing me when he learned about our baby, but I did not expect him to be so callous about it. 

Caleb snickered before telling me, “Abort the baby. I don’t care.” Then, he slammed the door on  my face. 

My chest constricted. 

Suddenly,  the air around me felt stuffy. It enveloped my body like a dense cloud obscuring my vision. 

Immediately, my hand went to the front pocket of my skirt to dig out the ultrasound report from this afternoon’s check-up.  I did not realize I had been crying as I thought about our child's future. 

If I had known that this would have happened, I would never have consulted my doctor friend Tony Richardson to work my body up for conception.  I should never have insisted on getting pregnant.

Caleb and I had a falling out a few months into our marriage when we learned that I was not carrying his heir, contrary to my earlier assumption that precipitated our rushed marriage.  

I erroneously thought that if I worked hard to conceive and eventually get pregnant, I would repair the damage to our marriage. But it seemed like no matter what I did, our relationship was doomed at the start. 

Caleb did not marry me for love. He married me because he thought he impregnated me after months of casual s*x with no label. 

I do not know how long I stood outside the guest room, staring at the closed door, before I finally summoned enough strength to leave. 

Morosely, I walked back to the master’s bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, replaying the events that happened that morning. 

My head reeled at how fast my life had altered.  Just this morning, I was so happy after visiting my friend Dr. Tony Richardson. 

For the past three years, he was my OB doctor, taking care of my reproductive health. 

“Your hormones caused an imbalance in your reproductive system and impeded your ability to conceive.” He explained when I first went to his office distraught and broken-hearted upon realizing that I made a grave mistake of erroneously misconstruing my missed period for pregnancy. 

“I can’t get pregnant?” I was shocked, never having thought of such a possibility. 

He smiled as if to assure me.  “Not right away.  Your condition reduces fertility, but it does not mean that you can’t get pregnant later.  We can work you up, and since you are young -  and I presume sexually active given that you are newlywed, it is not impossible.” 

There was no malice in his tone.  More like a matter-of-fact statement, but I could not help blushing thinking about the nights I spent in Caleb’s bed.  He was my first in everything. 

Without Caleb’s knowledge, I secretly met with Dr. Richardson. After two years of relentless effort, my hard work paid off. 

“Congratulations, Cassy.  You are eight weeks pregnant.” Dr. Tony told me this morning. 

In my excitement, I rose on tiptoe and placed my arms around his neck.  “Thank you so much, Dr. Tony. This is such wonderful news.” I told him. 

Clutching the ultrasound report to my chest,  I heaved a long drawn-out breath.

“It seems like it will just be you and Mommy in the future, baby,” I said to the image in my hand.  

Sleep becomes elusive after that. I curled up in bed, looking at my baby’s image with tears running from the corner of my eyes to my temples, wetting my pillow. 

When I woke up mid-morning the next day, it was the shrill sound of the telephone rousing me from my sleep. 

“Hello.” I winced, hearing the gruffiness in my voice. 

“What are you still doing at my son’s house?  I thought you had left.” The antagonistic tone in my mother-in-law’s voice had me bolting up from the bed. 

Pressing the phone to my ears, I composed myself and greeted her warmly.  “Good morning, mom.” 

“Don’t you dare call me mom.  You are not my daughter.  You are just a lowly secretary who trapped my son into marriage because of a fake pregnancy.  I’d say Caleb divorcing you is good riddance.” 

Her declaration caused a ripple in my heart. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Stop acting innocent and sign your divorce papers.  Caleb deserves a woman he could be proud of, not some conniving b*tch like you who lied and cheated on her marriage.” 

Her words stung and against my better judgment, I felt my eyes misting.

“I did not fake my pregnancy, mom.  I really thought I was pregnant.”

“Stop lying and get the h*l out of my son’s house!” She screamed before slamming the phone hard.