"What's wrong?"
Something wasn't right.
Roy had gotten a permanent vasectomy five years ago.
Five years ago, I'd been pregnant.
But when I was seven months along, Roy left an important document at home. I was on my way to bring it to him when a car that had lost control slammed into me.
I hemorrhaged on the spot and blacked out.
When I woke up, the doctor told me the baby was gone. My uterus had been severely damaged and had to be removed. I would never be able to have children again.
I was devastated. I cried the entire night in that hospital bed, and then I asked Roy for a divorce.
His family had been an only-child lineage for generations. I didn't want the James bloodline to end with me.
But Roy held me tight, refusing to let go, and said with absolute conviction:
"I would rather never have children than lose you."
I thought he was just saying it to comfort me.
But that same day, he went and got a vasectomy.
I would never forget the look on his face when he came off the operating table, completely sincere:
"See? Now I can't have children either."
"Don't you ever try to push me away again."
I'd been so moved I could barely breathe. I held onto him and cried for what felt like hours.
"Ma'am, are you okay?"
The little boy's voice pulled me back to the present.
I looked down at him. Those brows. Those features. They were identical to Roy's.
Anyone with eyes could see it. He was Roy's biological son.
But if Roy had gotten a permanent vasectomy five years ago, where had this four-year-old come from?
Had Roy lied to me?
No. I remembered. I'd tried to talk him out of it, told him not to be impulsive.
The doctor had even explained that there were two types of vasectomies. One was reversible. If you wanted children later, a second procedure could restore fertility.
The other was permanent. Once it was done, there was no going back.
Roy had insisted on the permanent one. He wanted to prove his commitment, and nothing I said could change his mind.
He'd even let me watch the entire procedure.
There was no way it had been faked.
So what didn't add up?
"You look terrible. Are you feeling alright?"
Iris was watching me with concern, worry pooling in her eyes.
I shook my head and brushed it off. "I'm fine."
"Probably just hungry. Low blood sugar."
The moment she heard that, Iris dug through her bag and pulled out a chocolate bar.
"My son gets low blood sugar all the time, so I always keep candy on me."
"Here, eat this. It'll help."
I took the chocolate, instinctively about to thank her, when my gaze snagged on something inside her open bag.
"Is that... a marriage certificate?"
Iris followed my line of sight and smiled, pulling it out.
"It is! My husband and I got it five years ago."
"He was so silly that day. After we got our license, he was so excited he picked me up and spun me around right there in the clerk's office. He even tripped and fell."
She opened the certificate and held it out to me.
In the photo, Roy was wearing a white dress shirt, beaming with pure happiness.
The date in the bottom right corner was perfectly clear. Five years ago.
But I had already been legally married to Roy for a year by then.
How could he have gone to get a marriage license with someone else while he was still married to me?
What was going on?
"Oh, by the way, we've been chatting all this time and I still don't know your name."
While my mind was still reeling, Iris smiled and asked.
I looked into her earnest eyes, hesitated for just a second, and said it plainly:
"My name is Virginia Simmons."
The moment she heard my name, Iris froze. The smile on her face turned to stone.
