Chapter 2 - The Language They Used Against Me
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
I could hear Sophia breathing.
She sounded frightened.
That surprised me.
In every version of this story I had constructed overnight, Sophia was confident. Calculating. Maybe even cruel.
She was the other woman.
The woman carrying the child my husband and I had spent six years trying to have.
I had expected arrogance.
Instead, I heard fear.
“What do you mean?” I finally asked.
Sophia hesitated.
“I can't explain this over the phone.”
“You called me.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
Another silence.
“Please.”
Her voice cracked.
“Meet me.”
Every instinct told me not to trust her.
But I had trusted Lukas.
Look where that had gotten me.
“Where?”
She named a café in Lincoln Park.
“Thirty minutes.”
“Evelyn—”
I ended the call.
My hands were trembling now.
Not from sadness.
From adrenaline.
I opened the notebook again.
Beneath Sophia's name, I wrote:
SHE CALLED ME FIRST.
Then I circled it.
Twenty-seven minutes later, I saw her.
She was sitting alone near a window.
Pregnant.
There was no hiding it.
Her hands rested protectively over the curve of her stomach.
She looked older than the photographs I had once seen of her, though still beautiful. Dark hair. Pale skin. Tired eyes.
When she saw me, she stood too quickly.
“Evelyn.”
I stopped several feet away.
For years, I had wondered what I would do if I ever encountered a woman Lukas had cheated with.
Apparently, I would notice that she looked exhausted.
“Sit down,” I said.
We did.
Sophia's eyes moved toward my left hand.
My wedding ring.
Then she looked away.
“I'm sorry.”
I almost laughed.
“You're going to have to be more specific.”
Her face tightened.
“I deserve that.”
“Probably.”
She nodded.
I didn't comfort her.
Not yet.
“Did you know he was married?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
No excuse.
No lie.
“Yes.”
My jaw tightened.
“Then whatever comes next had better be worth hearing.”
Sophia swallowed.
“It started last year.”
I said nothing.
“Lukas contacted me. He said you two were separated.”
I almost interrupted.
She raised a hand.
“I know. I knew that wasn't completely true.”
“Completely?”
“He said you were still living together because of financial issues. He said the marriage was over emotionally.”
“That is a very convenient story.”
“I know.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I wanted to.”
At least she was honest.
She stared at the table.
“We were together three times.”
Three.
The number shouldn't have mattered.
It did.
“Where?”
“Milwaukee once. Chicago twice.”
Business trips.
My missing receipts.
My stomach tightened.
Sophia continued.
“When I found out I was pregnant, I told him immediately.”
“And he was thrilled.”
Her expression changed.
“No.”
That wasn't what I expected.
“He panicked.”
“Last night he announced it to his family like he'd won something.”
Sophia's head snapped upward.
“He told them?”
“Yes.”
She looked genuinely alarmed.
“What exactly did he say?”
I watched her carefully.
“That the baby was his.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
“And?”
“That I didn't know.”
Her face lost color.
“And?”
I leaned forward.
“His mother said they would make me raise your child.”
Sophia stared at me.
Then she whispered, “Oh my God.”
I couldn't tell whether the reaction was genuine.
“What did you think was going to happen?”
“I thought Lukas was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“He kept saying he needed time.”
“To do what?”
Sophia looked at me.
“That's why I called.”
My pulse quickened.
“He asked me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A custody agreement.”
I froze.
“He said after the baby was born, I would sign over primary custody.”
“To him?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you agree to that?”
“I didn't.”
She reached into her handbag.
Then she stopped.
“Can I show you something?”
I nodded.
Sophia pulled out her phone.
She opened a message thread.
Lukas's name appeared at the top.
I didn't want to look.
I looked anyway.
There were dozens of messages.
Some romantic.
Some logistical.
Some made me feel physically sick.
Then Sophia scrolled to one from three weeks earlier.
LUKAS: Evelyn will accept the baby eventually. My mother agrees.
Another.
LUKAS: Once the child is in the house, she won't walk away.
I read it twice.
Sophia scrolled again.
LUKAS: She has wanted this too long.
My throat closed.
There it was.
Not Ingrid's idea.
His.
My husband intended to use my infertility to trap me.
Sophia watched my face.
“I didn't know what he meant at first.”
“But now you do.”
“Yes.”
“Why call me now?”
Her hand moved protectively over her stomach.
“Because yesterday he threatened me.”
That word changed the air between us.
“Threatened how?”
“He said if I didn't cooperate, he'd make sure I regretted it.”
“Did he specify?”
“No.”
“Do you have the message?”
“He called.”
Convenient.
Maybe true.
Maybe not.
I wasn't ready to trust her.
“What aren't you telling me, Sophia?”
She looked down.
“There's something else.”
Of course there was.
There was always something else.
“The baby?”
She nodded.
“What about it?”
“I told Lukas something two weeks ago.”
Her breathing became uneven.
“I told him there was a possibility he wasn't the father.”
I stared at her.
For the first time that morning, I genuinely didn't understand.
“What?”
“I had been seeing someone else.”
“When?”
“Around the same time.”
“Does Lukas know?”
“Yes.”
“And he still told his family the baby was his?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Sophia's eyes filled with tears.
“That is what scares me.”
I sat back.
Everything shifted.
This wasn't merely an affair anymore.
Lukas didn't know whether the child was his.
Yet he was already planning for me to raise it.
Why?
I thought about the five-thousand-dollar transfer.
The missing trips.
His confidence at dinner.
Ingrid's certainty.
“We'll make her.”
“What exactly did he ask you to sign?” I asked.
Sophia reached into her bag again.
This time she removed several folded pages.
She slid them across the table.
I read the first page.
Then the second.
The language was formal.
Legal.
And buried halfway down the document was a clause involving financial compensation.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
I looked up.
“What is this?”
“I don't know.”
“You were going to sign something you didn't understand?”
“No. That's why I refused.”
“Who prepared it?”
“Lukas said a friend.”
I looked at the document again.
No attorney's name.
No firm.
Nothing.
Then I noticed another clause.
The payment wasn't from Lukas.
It referenced an account held jointly by Lukas Vance and Evelyn Vance.
My blood went cold.
My money.
Our money.
He intended to pay Sophia from our marital assets in exchange for custody of a child who might not even be his.
I photographed every page.
Sophia watched me.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Are you going to confront him?”
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“Why not?”
“Because yesterday I thought my husband was having an affair.”
I folded my hands.
“Today I know he's moving money, preparing secret agreements, and making plans involving my finances.”
I met her eyes.
“I don't confront people until I know what they're hiding.”
Sophia nodded slowly.
Then she reached into her bag once more.
This time she pulled out a small envelope.
“Then you need this.”
“What is it?”
“I found it in Lukas's car.”
“You were in his car?”
“Two weeks ago.”
I didn't ask.
Not because it didn't hurt.
Because I suddenly cared about something more important than the affair.
Sophia slid the envelope toward me.
Inside was a photocopy of a bank statement.
An account I didn't recognize.
Lukas's name appeared at the top.
So did another name.
Ingrid Vance.
My mother-in-law.
The balance was $84,213.
I stared at it.
“That isn't possible.”
Sophia said nothing.
I looked at the deposits.
Several originated from an account ending in four digits I recognized immediately.
Our joint savings.
My stomach dropped.
I turned the page.
Transfer after transfer.
Small enough that I hadn't noticed.
Then larger.
Thousands of dollars over three years.
Money disappearing from my marriage into an account controlled by my husband and his mother.
Suddenly the baby wasn't the only secret sitting at that Sunday dinner.
Not even close.
I looked across the café at Sophia.
“How much does Lukas know you gave me?”
“Nothing.”
“Keep it that way.”
She nodded.
I placed the papers inside my bag.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Lukas.
Morning, beautiful. Dinner tonight? Just us?
I stared at the words.
Sophia saw my expression.
“What?”
I turned the phone facedown.
“My husband wants to take me to dinner.”
“What are you going to say?”
I stood.
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Why?”
I put on my coat.
“Because he thinks I don't know anything.”
I looked at the bank statement one final time.
“And right now, that's the only advantage I have.”
But when I reached my car, another message appeared.
This one wasn't from Lukas.
Unknown number.
One photograph.
It showed me and Sophia sitting together inside the café.
May you like
Underneath it were five words:
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED HOME.
