Weston looked at me, squinting as if he were trying to read my mind.
"Rach… did you find something out?"
I gave him a dry, bitter smile. "What could I possibly know, huh? Just that you're suddenly not coming home at night anymore. That you're dead set on leaving me and this baby behind."
That stopped him. For a moment, he looked caught off guard. Then he laughed, shaking his head as if everything finally clicked.
"Wait, seriously? You think I'm taking the night shift so I can sneak around with another woman? That I'm spending my nights wrapped up with someone else while you're at home stressing over it?"
He reached out and tapped the tip of my nose like we were still some cutesy couple in love.
"Babe, you're the only woman I've ever wanted," Weston said affectionately. "I don't even look at anyone else, I swear. You don't need to worry. I'm just doing this to bring in some real money. Big money."
Big money?
The words ran straight down my spine like a cold draft.
It was true. There wasn't another woman.
But what he was doing was so much worse than cheating.
I had already lived through the aftermath once, and I'd be damned if I let history repeat itself.
If Weston was really determined to walk that same road again, I wasn't about to bring this child into the world to go through the fallout.
"Goodbye."
Just two syllables. No drama. No scene.
I stood up straight, turned around, and walked toward the front door.
The moment they realized I was serious, the relatives nearby hurried to change what they were saying.
"Rachel is really being unreasonable," one of them muttered. "So what if he's working nights? She's six months along, storming out like this? Weston's trying to build a better future!"
"Exactly. It's not like Weston is leaving her completely. He's still around during the day. As his wife, she should be more understanding. She's being way too dramatic."
"I mean, seriously, she left like it was life or death! Threatening to abort the baby over a shift change? Honestly, maybe she's the one with someone on the side!"
My in-laws then decided to intervene, their voices sharp and cold.
Karen's tone cut clean across the room. "Rachel, if you walk out that door, don't expect to come back. You're not welcome here anymore."
Gilbert didn't miss a beat, nodding as he chimed in. "That's right. And don't think this is your choice. We're throwing you out. You think anyone else would want a used-up woman like you? Weston, on the other hand, can remarry whenever he wants."
I let out a small, wry smile and answered, "Oh? Then let me congratulate you in advance."
I stepped out of the house I had lived in for the past ten years and headed for the elevator. The doors opened, and just as I was about to get in, Weston ran after me.
For a split second, my heart paused.
I thought maybe he'd changed his mind, but all he said was that he'd drive me to my parents' house.
The entire ride was dead quiet.
Neither of us spoke a word.
I looked out the window, watching the blur of streetlights and signs pass by, and let the tears fall silently. They soaked into my shirt one after another, with no sound and no fuss.
Fifteen years of love…
And it still wasn't enough to make him choose me over a night shift.
What a joke. What a failure I must have been.
...
Almost an hour later, we pulled into my parents' driveway.
I was exhausted—physically, emotionally, mentally. I didn't say a word, just grabbed my suitcase and went straight to my room.
Weston, somehow unfazed, remained in the living room and talked with my parents as if nothing had occurred.
When I woke up the next morning, sunlight was already creeping in through the blinds.
The first thing I did was pick up my phone and call the clinic.
I booked the abortion for 4 p.m.
At breakfast, my parents were quiet. For a long time, they just sat there, watching me, reading me.
Finally, my dad cleared his throat.
"Sweetheart, you're not the kind of person who makes rash decisions. You wouldn't just decide to end a pregnancy because Weston's working nights. So tell us the truth, has he started a second family or something? Is this 'night shift' just a cover?"
My mom reached across the table and softly took my hand, her eyes already welling with tears.
"She's right. You're our only child. Back when Weston was still teaching, we thought he was a good man. But then that student accused him of misconduct, and he lost everything—his job, his name. Even after he was cleared, now he's just a line worker. Nothing special. If he's betrayed you, your dad and I have savings. We can take care of you and our grandchild, no matter what."
I shook my head slowly.
"No, Mom. Weston's been good to me. There's no other woman. I don't want him working night shifts."
My mom then looked at me like she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Then you're being immature, Rachel. It's normal for a man to be away sometimes. That doesn't mean you throw your whole life away. Just stay here for now. Your dad and I will take care of you."
