Chapter 9 - MY HUSBAND'S MISTRESS CAME TO MY DOOR WITH A DEMAND I NEVER EXPECTEDClaire's Perspective
The emergency department was cold.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The second was the way Aunt June held my hand.
She'd been beside me for nearly two hours, refusing to leave even when I told her she should get some sleep.
“I'm not going anywhere,” she said.
I stared at the examination room ceiling.
“What if something's wrong?”
June squeezed my fingers.
“Then we'll deal with whatever the doctor tells us.”
I swallowed.
“I can't lose them.”
Her eyes softened.
“I know, sweetheart.”
When the doctor finally entered, I almost stopped breathing.
He introduced himself as Dr. Daniel Harris, an obstetrician covering the hospital that evening.
He reviewed my symptoms and the ultrasound findings.
I watched his face, searching for clues.
Finally, he turned toward me.
“Claire, both babies have heartbeats.”
I burst into tears.
June covered her mouth.
“Oh, thank God.”
Dr. Harris waited patiently.
Then he explained that the scan showed a small subchorionic hematoma, an area of bleeding near one of the pregnancy sacs.
He said it could explain what I'd experienced.
“It doesn't mean you're going to lose the pregnancy,” he told me. “But it does mean we should arrange follow-up care.”
I nodded quickly.
“Will the babies be okay?”
“Both look reassuring right now. I can't promise how every pregnancy will progress, but today's findings are encouraging.”
I held on to those words.
Encouraging.
Not guaranteed.
But encouraging.
He reviewed warning signs that would require urgent attention and arranged for me to follow up with Dr. Patel.
When he left, I lay quietly for several minutes.
June stroked my hair.
“You heard him.”
I nodded.
“Two heartbeats.”
“Two stubborn little hearts.”
I laughed weakly.
“Just like their mother?”
“Exactly.”
That night, we returned home shortly after midnight.
I was exhausted.
But I was also grateful.
Grateful for the doctors.
Grateful for June.
Grateful that I'd listened to my instincts and gotten checked.
And grateful that, for now, both babies were still growing inside me.
The following morning, Lauren called.
“Claire, how are you feeling?”
“Tired. But better.”
“June told me what happened. I'm glad you got medical care.”
I thanked her.
Then she hesitated.
“There's something you should know.”
My stomach tightened.
“Please don't tell me there's another loan.”
“Not exactly.”
I sat up.
“What does that mean?”
“Moretti Development released a statement yesterday. Vincent publicly accepted responsibility for his infidelity and asked the press to respect your privacy.”
I stared at the wall.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
For several seconds, I didn't know what to say.
A week earlier, Vincent would have done almost anything to protect his reputation.
Admitting an affair publicly was the last thing I'd expected.
“Did he mention the pregnancy?”
“No.”
I closed my eyes.
“Good.”
Lauren continued.
“He also confirmed that the business transactions are being independently investigated.”
I nodded slowly.
“That's appropriate.”
“Claire, I know you're angry with him. But his legal team has been cooperating with our document requests.”
“I'm glad.”
“And the independent review may help establish what happened.”
I looked toward the window.
“Lauren, I don't want to punish Vincent for the sake of punishing him.”
“I know.”
“I just want the truth.”
Her voice softened.
“Then we'll keep working toward it.”
After the call, I spent the morning resting.
June brought me soup.
I answered a few messages from close friends.
Then I returned to the schoolhouse plans.
The old building stood near Beacon's waterfront, just beyond a former industrial district.
My mother had loved the location.
She believed the neighborhood needed a safe place for children whose parents worked long hours.
I opened a satellite map and examined the surrounding streets.
One side of the property bordered an old service road.
Beyond that was a large section of land marked for redevelopment.
Harbor Point.
Vincent's project.
I frowned.
I'd known the development was somewhere along the Hudson.
But I hadn't paid much attention to its exact boundaries.
Now I enlarged the map.
Harbor Point's proposed eastern entrance appeared to run directly toward the service road beside my schoolhouse.
I stared.
Was that a coincidence?
Or had Sophia been interested in more than my ownership interest in Vincent's company?
I printed the map.
Then I called Lauren.
“I need you to look at something.”
“What is it?”
“The schoolhouse my mother left me.”
She sounded confused.
“Your Beacon property?”
“Yes. I think it might be connected to Harbor Point.”
I explained the map.
Lauren listened.
Then she said something that made my stomach tighten.
“Claire, I want to review the property's title and any agreements recorded against it.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone needs access through your land, they may have tried to acquire rights to it.”
I looked at the map again.
For years, the schoolhouse had been worth relatively little compared with the expensive waterfront properties surrounding it.
But if the development needed access through that road, its value could be much greater.
“I never agreed to sell it,” I said.
“I know.”
“And Vincent knows I want to restore it.”
“Then let's make sure nobody has represented otherwise.”
We ended the call.
I was still staring at the map when the doorbell rang.
June was in the backyard.
I looked through the front window.
A silver luxury car stood outside.
And beside it was a woman I recognized immediately.
Sophia Reynolds.
My blood went cold.
She wore a pale pink coat and oversized sunglasses.
Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders.
She looked as though she'd arrived for a casual lunch.
Not a confrontation with the pregnant wife of the man she'd been sleeping with.
I didn't open the door.
Instead, I called June.
She came inside a moment later.
When she saw Sophia through the window, her expression hardened.
“Absolutely not.”
“June—”
“That woman has no business coming here.”
Sophia rang the bell again.
Then knocked.
“Claire? I know you're inside.”
I stood behind the locked door.
“What do you want, Sophia?”
She removed her sunglasses.
“We need to talk.”
“Contact my attorney.”
“This is personal.”
I almost laughed.
“You lost the right to make personal demands when you walked into my anniversary restaurant holding my husband's hand.”
Her face tightened.
“Vincent told you about us?”
“I watched you together.”
For a moment, she looked uncomfortable.
Then she recovered.
“You've always been dramatic.”
June stepped beside me.
“Miss Reynolds, leave this property.”
Sophia glanced toward the window.
“Oh, hello, Aunt June.”
“Don't pretend we know each other well enough for that.”
Sophia's smile vanished.
I took a breath.
“Why are you here?”
She looked directly at me through the glass.
“I'm pregnant.”
The words struck me unexpectedly.
I stared at her.
She lifted her chin.
“Vincent's baby.”
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I felt a strange calm settle over me.
“That's between you and Vincent.”
Sophia blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“If you're pregnant and he's the father, he has responsibilities. But that doesn't change my decision to divorce him.”
Her expression shifted.
“You're not upset?”
“I'm upset about many things, Sophia. I don't need to compete with you over children who haven't done anything wrong.”
She stared.
For the first time since I'd known her, she seemed genuinely unprepared for my answer.
Then she reached into her handbag.
“I didn't come here just to tell you that.”
She removed a folder.
“You need to sign something.”
I laughed once.
“No.”
“You haven't even seen it.”
“I don't need to.”
Her expression hardened.
“Claire, don't be difficult.”
June stepped closer to the door.
“Leave. Now.”
Sophia ignored her.
“Harbor Point needs access through your property. There's already an agreement in place. We just need you to confirm it.”
My heart began pounding.
“What agreement?”
She held up a document.
I recognized the heading.
OPTION TO PURCHASE REAL PROPERTY.
Below it was the address of my mother's schoolhouse.
And near the bottom—
My signature.
Again.
I gripped the edge of the doorframe.
“I never signed that.”
Sophia smiled.
“Then I suggest you speak to your attorney.”
I stared at her.
“You forged my name on a contract involving my mother's property?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Be careful what you accuse me of.”
I looked at the document again.
The schoolhouse.
The place my mother had dreamed of turning into a refuge for children.
The one thing she had left me that I hadn't yet fulfilled my promise to protect.
Sophia lowered her voice.
“Sign the confirmation, Claire. Take the money. Move on.”
I shook my head.
“Get off this property.”
Her expression turned cold.
“You really don't understand, do you?”
She stepped closer to the glass.
“Without that schoolhouse, the entire Harbor Point access plan could collapse.”
I stared at her.
Then she said the words that revealed how far she was willing to go.
“Your mother is dead, Claire. Stop clinging to her dreams.”
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Then I looked directly into her eyes.
“My mother may be gone, Sophia. But what she taught me is still alive.”
I stepped back.
“And I'm not signing anything.”
Sophia's face hardened.
She returned to her car.
But before leaving, she lowered the window.
“You're making a terrible mistake.”
I didn't answer.
I watched her drive away.
Then I called Lauren.
When she answered, I spoke six words.
“They've gone after my mother's property.”
May you like
And this time, I wasn't simply fighting for my marriage, my money, or my children.
I was fighting for a promise I'd made to someone who could no longer defend herself.
Related Stories
