God, it explained so much. The narcissism, the coldness, the inappropriate affect when bad things happened to good people. She seemed so compassionless to him, lacking some sort of inner core that he’d never experienced in another person. Sometimes it turned him on, but other times, it scared him to the bone.
He’d known then he should confront her, get her to a psychiatrist, get her on medication. But the mind of a writer is a curious place. It can see the smallest fragment of reality and spin it into a world heretofore unknown.
So instead of sitting down with his wife and asking what he could do to help, he’d made an epic, life-changing mistake.
He’d taken the kernel of the idea, married it to the research, and built himself a character.
Strike one, buddy.
And of course, that character came alive for him in ways no one could ever imagine, considering the model was only an arm’s length away. The story unfolded in front of him, and he was helpless to stop it. Once the woman in his brain came to life, it was as if he were on a train, barreling toward the station.
If only he’d known he was actually on a steep descent into the depths of the earth.
He’d pitched the idea to Bill, a story about a sociopathic young mother struggling to be normal, and Bill had sold the idea to Ethan’s publisher the next day, for a gigantic wad of cash.
He had asked them to be very careful when they publicly discussed the sale, wanting to be sure no one let slip the subject of the book. Of course, some intern blew it, entranced with the description, and posted the blurb of what the book was about from his proposal in the actual announcement. And Sutton had seen it.
He thought he’d known coldness from her before. Now he was face-to-face with an Antarctic glacier. His own fault, too. That breach started them down the long path, unraveled their relationship quickly and neatly. The things that followed—the affair, the death of the baby, the book cancellation, now Sutton’s disappearance—were all because he’d decided to be an arse and profit on her back.
Oddly, they never discussed what they both knew—he’d been spying on her, and had taken her work for his own. Her work on herself. She mentioned casually she’d changed her passwords, citing a hack of her email, but they both knew she was furious. So angry she couldn’t even confront him. An anger so righteous and pure he deserved to be divorced.
And instead, she’d gotten pregnant.
Why hadn’t he just told her the truth then? Would honesty have stopped the progression of their disastrous world?
Ethan, you are responsible for this.
Back from his remembrances, sitting at her desk, he really, really didn’t want to snoop. After all that happened, it made him terribly uncomfortable. He knew better. But under the guise of the police might be called, I need to do my homework, he started opening drawers.
Top drawer: ink, Post-it notes, Clairefontaine notebooks, all pristinely kept.
Second drawer: stapler, scissors, checkbooks, and deposit slips.
Third drawer: her current files.
And one from the past.
The folder was labeled—Brother P-touch labeled; Sutton was nothing if not organized—Baby.
The pain seized his heart and he gasped aloud. The baby was always in the back of his mind. A whisper on his lips. But seeing the file, he knew what was inside, and he lifted it carefully, as if it were a bomb that might explode and shatter all the windows. He couldn’t help himself. As he pulled it from the drawer, something hard and white slipped out and landed on the floor, and he fumbled the file, and all the contents spilled out onto the white oak planks.
Doctor’s files, an ultrasound, and a pregnancy test.
God, she’d kept the pregnancy test. The pregnancy he’d forced on her after he’d broken her trust.
Sutton was right in her silent reproaches. He was a reprehensible creature. Who did that to their wife? To the one they loved more than life itself?
What the fuck did the word love mean, anyway?
AND THEN THEY WERE THREE
Then
Sutton was green.
They sat together at the kitchen table, and Ethan watched his wife over the rim of his teacup. She was truly green around the gills.
“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
She gave him a panicked look, made a horrible noise in her throat, then bolted from the table. He was right behind her. She made it to the half bath in the foyer, started retching the second she was above the toilet. He caught her hair, held it back, crooned, and rubbed her back.
After a while, she collapsed in a heap next to the toilet. He handed her a cold, wet washcloth. She wiped her face and turned those huge eyes on him.
“You must have had something bad at the event last night. I hate those catered parties. You never know how long the food’s been sitting out. Those bacon-wrapped scallops—”
“Ethan.”
“—I never saw anyone change the tray. I’m going to call and complain, they shouldn’t be allowed—”
“Ethan!”
“What? What?”
“I don’t think it was the food.”
“What else could it be?”
There was a long pause, searching looks, then dawning comprehension. A spark of joy built in his chest. “Oh my God, Sutton. Are you...?”
“Pregnant,” she said, the word dripping with contempt and hate.
“Pregnant!” he cried, dropping to his knees, gathering her in his arms. She was stiff as a board, didn’t move. “My darling, this is brilliant news. Brilliant! We have to call the doctor, we need to decide which room to use as the nursery, we—”
“Stop. Just stop. There will be no baby.”
Ethan froze. Her tone was so coolly detached now he almost didn’t recognize her. If he could see into her head, he’d realize his beloved, crouched on the bathroom floor, a string of vomit in her tangled hair, was slowly plotting the demise of their child.
“What do you mean, no baby? Of course there will be. You’re healthy, this will go wonderfully. How far along are you?”
He didn’t say he’d suspected all along because the trash can hadn’t filled with the usual monthly accoutrements. He didn’t tell her he’d noticed her breasts were a touch fuller, the nipples gone the color of wine. He couldn’t, because if he did, it would be clear to Sutton he’d been paying attention to her cycle, and if she knew that, she might realize more about her “surprise” pregnancy, and right now, all he cared about was getting her mind wrapped around a little one.