Chapter 2
“Nah, I’m good staying at school.”
“Come on, don’t be like that…” His voice got softer. “Mom and Dad are coming over the day after tomorrow to see you. They really miss you.”
He paused, and there was this pleading tone.
“Rachel, they’re getting old and their health isn’t great. They can’t handle any drama.”
“About us… let’s not tell them yet. Just help me out one last time, okay?”
Listening to him pull all these psychology tricks, using guilt and family duty to trap me, counting on how much I once loved him and my softness to pull emotional blackmail.
I gripped my phone tight, and after what felt like forever, finally forced out one word:
“Fine.”
One last time. Time to end this joke of a marriage.
On my birthday, I was busy in the kitchen.
The doorbell rang. When his parents saw Emma, they totally froze.
Then their eyes immediately locked onto her big belly.
His mom grabbed Emma’s hand, staring at her huge bump, voice all excited:
‘Emma, you’re incredible! Such a strong, independent modern woman!”
His dad kept nodding, looking super impressed:
‘When the baby comes, if you’re too busy with school, we old folks can lend a hand!”
As they talked, they both shot these judgy looks at my flat stomach.
I put out a whole spread of food, everything looking and smelling amazing.
I wiped off my sweat and was about to sit down when Emma spoke up all sweet:
“Don’t you think something’s missing? Today’s Rachel’s birthday…”
Only then did David say casually:
“Oh right, got too busy and forgot.”
His mom immediately jumped in with a smile:
“Rachel, you’re over thirty now. Why do you need all that sugary stuff anyway?”
Chapter 2
I didn’t say anything, just kept picking at my food.
Soon there was knocking at the door. A bunch of young faces stood outside.
My students.
They were holding a cake that said “Happy Birthday Ms. Blackwell.”
“Happy birthday, Ma’am!”
The candlelight flickered, reflecting in their honest eyes.
The calm I’d been forcing all day just shattered. Hot tears came pouring out without warning.
All the hurt, the pain, the feeling invisible-everything just broke loose.
The kids panicked, crowding around me all clumsy:
“Ma’am, don’t cry!”
“What’s wrong?”
I covered my mouth but the sobs leaked through my fingers anyway.
Here, in this place, the only real warmth I felt was from these kids.
Suddenly Emma cried out from the kitchen.
“Ow!”
David rushed over instantly, holding her hand all worried:
“How could you be so careless!”
His parents freaked out too:
“Don’t touch water! You might get an infection!”
“Exactly! Pregnant women have to be extra careful!”
All three of them looked at me with silent blame.
His mom sighed:
“Rachel, housework is really your job. Emma’s pregnant, it’s so hard for her…”
The boy behind me suddenly stepped forward, his face all red:
“Why should it be Ms. Blackwell’s job?”
“Ms. Blackwell was grading our papers till three in the morning last night! Why can’t she get a break?”
Another girl couldn’t help speaking up:
Chapter 2
“Today’s Ms. Blackwell’s birthday. Why should she have to wait on all of you?”
“Did any of you even remember to say happy birthday to her?”
His parents got all awkward, not knowing what to say after getting called out by kids.
David’s face went dark, looking pissed and totally busted.
But what the students said felt like this warm blanket around me, even though it made everything hurt more.
Even kids got it, but the family I lived with every day acted like I didn’t exist.
I quietly turned around, picked up the cake my students brought, and walked upstairs step by step.
The hardened candle wax looked just like all the blood that had drained from my heart.
Late that night, David stumbled into bed next to me, reeking of alcohol.
In the dark, his voice was low:
‘I didn’t tell Mom and Dad about the divorce.”
I stared at the ceiling, my voice completely flat:
‘Did you tell them the baby Emma’s carrying is yours?”
The air went dead quiet.
The next second, he sat up fast, his voice full of anger at getting called out:
‘Rachel, you gotta be this way?”
