Everyone in this story is over the age of 18.
*
About ten long weeks later, I was really starting to show and had to wear baggier and baggier clothes to hide it. I supposed everyone just thought I was indulging too much in Ben & Jerry's, but I knew that excuse wouldn't hold for much longer when my stomach was sticking out like a beach ball. J., a couple of other close friends, and S. were the only people who knew exactly what had caused my sudden weight gain. No one at work knew and I hadn't told my parents yet. I was avoiding talking to them like the plague, but I couldn't hide it from them for much longer. I was used to telling them nearly everything.
S. came over almost every other day and often spent the night with me. I didn't know how he explained that to his wife, and I didn't ask. We had sex whenever my roommate was out of the apartment. We couldn't get enough of each other. S. always handled me carefully, like I was a doll, and he constantly made sure I was comfortable and healthy. He was at every doctor appointment and went shopping for baby clothes with me. He even researched sex positions during pregnancy, for when I was too big to handle most of the usual ones. One Saturday morning we were cuddling in my bed and I decided I couldn't wait any longer. I had to ask him.
"S...." I murmured, glancing at him over my shoulder. "How is it that -- that you can be here with me so often? Doesn't she wonder where you are?"
"I told you," he said, his fingers playing over my swelling stomach, "I'm out of the house for work a lot, so it's really nothing new." I sighed, and turned so that I was fully facing him.
"S.," I said, looking directly into his eyes. He looked away.
"It's not going well," he whispered. "She asked me for a divorce the other night." I gasped.
"Oh, sweetie," I said. "I'm so sorry." Deep inside, I felt a spark of triumph, and I loathed myself for it. I buried my face in his shoulder, in case he could see the truth in my eyes, and rubbed his back. "What are you going to do?" I asked. He shrugged.
"I don't know," S. said helplessly. "You're the first person I've told." Something occurred to me and I started. S. looked at me.
"Does she know? About us?" I asked urgently. He inhaled.
"I don't think so," he said carefully, "but I can't be absolutely certain. She might. But I don't think she could know everything, unless..." He trailed off and I shook his arm.
"Unless what, S.?"
"Unless my brother told her," he said reluctantly.
"You told him? I thought I knew everyone who knew!" I cried.
"I'll call him later," S. said. Then he looked at the expression on my face. "I mean right now!" He rolled off the bed and searched for his phone among the discarded clothing on the floor. I lay back and covered my face with my hands.
"Did she tell you
why
she wanted a divorce?" I asked him, my voice muffled.
