The kitchen had always been his forbidden territory.
Once, I'd been burning up with a fever, too weak to stand, and all I asked was for him to mix me a packet of fever reducer. He refused without a second thought.
"I'm a grown man. Why would I set foot in a kitchen?"
That night my temperature spiked to a hundred and four. I drifted in and out of consciousness until the housekeeper found me the next morning.
A man who had never so much as lifted a finger in the kitchen his entire life could apparently set aside every last one of his principles for the right woman.
Mid-thought, Annette's face drained of color. She clapped a hand over her mouth and lurched to her feet.
Morning sickness again, by the look of it.
In the next instant, Ervin was at her side, steadying her with one arm while his free hand produced a plastic bag from his pocket. The motion was practiced, automatic.
He braced her shoulders and let her lean her full weight against him.
"Excuse us. We need the restroom."
After they left, I finally let out the breath I'd been holding. I opened my chat with Ervin.
Our last exchange was from two days ago, when I'd told him I had a surprise for him.
At this rate, that surprise was about to become a shock.
I was about to close the app when a new message popped up in my pinned conversation.
The certificate is real, but I found records showing he purchased a forged marriage certificate online a few months ago.
I closed my eyes. I already knew the answer.
I'd barely finished replying when someone knocked on the door.
"Doctor, we're back."
The two of them settled into the chairs across from me again, leaning into each other like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Ervin reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Annette's ear, then straightened her collar. As the fabric shifted, a vivid red hickey bloomed into view on her neck.
I frowned, keeping my voice as level as I could manage.
"Has no one told you? The first trimester is a critical period. No intercourse."
Annette's cheeks flushed pink. She swatted Ervin's arm twice, her voice a playful whine.
"This is your fault."
"The second we hit three months, you couldn't keep your hands off me. Now I'm embarrassed in front of the doctor."
A wave of nausea surged up from my stomach and clawed at the back of my throat.
Ervin just smiled at her complaints, absorbing every word with infinite patience. Then he turned to me and asked a few questions about prenatal precautions, pulling out his phone to type each one into his notes app.
I caught a glimpse of the note's title: Annie Baby's Pregnancy Guide.
When he swiped back to the main screen, there were more. Annie Baby's Food Restrictions. Annie Baby's Health Cycle Log...
I looked away. Something cold settled in my chest.
Four years I'd known him. He had never once kept records like that for me.
Last month, just to fly out and see him, I'd swapped shifts with three different colleagues.
After working thirty-six hours straight, I'd dragged myself onto a plane.
The moment I landed, I couldn't even get him on the phone.
I called again and again until finally, after what felt like forever, the line stopped going to voicemail.
But when I told him I was already in a cab on my way to him, Ervin's voice shot up an octave.
"Don't come right now!"
I sat in the back seat, bewildered. I'd told him my plans a full week in advance. We'd agreed on this exact day.
He'd said yes without hesitation and promised to pick me up at the airport himself.
But on the phone, Ervin fumbled over his words.
"I... I forgot..."
"I'm out of town on a business trip. I'm sorry, Evelyn. I didn't get a chance to tell you."
"Just head home for today."
