When the Remaining Warmth of Love Fades

1
Peter brought home a little boy after getting me a late-night snack during my morning sickness. With a playful look, he asked if I thought it was his secret love child. Seeing my stunned face, he laughed softly and stroked my cheek. Weve been married for years, love. Youre the only one I want to be a father for.
He explained he found the boy on the street, clinging to him, and would return him in the morningjust in time for my ultrasound. I nodded.
But at the clinic the next day, my calls went unanswered. Then I spotted him across the hall, holding a pale woman, his voice heavy with emotion: "Why didnt you tell me back thenwhy did you hide our son?"
As the two lost lovers held each other and cried, their past misunderstandings dissolved. "Dont cry, its all my fault," he whispered. "Focus on getting better. Well never be apart again."
I looked down at the ultrasound photo in my hand, at the healthy little life inside. My thumb hovered over my phone for a moment, then I deleted the unsent message: "Honey, the babys perfect."
His mother suddenly stormed past me, yanking the two apart before slapping the woman, Lily, hard across the face.
"You bitch," she spat, her voice venomous. "You're just as shameless as your mother. You know you're the product of an affair, so how dare you come back and tangle yourself up with my son!"
Lily stumbled back, a crimson handprint already blooming on her cheek.
Peter snapped back to reality, instantly shielding Lily behind him. "Mom, what are you doing!"
"What am I doing?" His mother was trembling with rage, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Have you lost your mind? Have you forgotten how her mother crawled into your father's bed and made my life a living hell? Have you forgotten how she took your father's money and tossed you aside like a stray dog? Now she's sick and dying, and you're letting her sink her teeth into you again? I'm telling you, not as long as I'm alive!"
"It's not like that, Mrs. Croft," Lily sobbed. "I found out I had bone cancer back then. I had to leave him; I didn't want to be a burden."
"Oh, so noble of you," his mother sneered. "Then why not keep it a secret forever? Peter was finally moving on, he has a new family, and now you show up with a child, crying in his arms in a hospital corridor. Do you think we can't see right through you, Lily?"
"Mom!" Peter's voice was a low growl of fury as he held the trembling Lily even tighter. "She left to protect me! She's been fighting this disease alone for years. Can you please just stop?"
His mothers hand shook as she pointed at him, her chest heaving.
I watched the drama unfold, a nauseating wave washing over me. The stares of onlookers felt like needles piercing my skin.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward, gently touching his mother's arm.
"Mom, let's go. My stomach hurts."
It was only then that Peter saw me.
The anger on his face froze, and he let go of Lily in a panic.
"Sienna? What are you doing here?"
My vision blurred. I ignored the hand he reached out to me, clinging to his mothers arm instead. My voice trembled.
"Mom, take me away... my stomach really hurts."
"Sienna, what's wrong?" He rushed toward me, trying to help me into a chair.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed, my voice raw as I violently shoved his hand away.
"You mean lady, stop bullying my daddy!" The little boy from last night shot out like a cannonball and slammed into my side.
My balance gave way, and I crashed heavily to the floor.
An agonizing, tearing pain ripped through my lower abdomen. A wave of warmth instantly soaked through my clothes.
"Sienna!" I saw Peter and his mother running toward me, their faces masks of terror. "Doctor! Somebody get a doctor!"
2
I was lying in a hospital bed, an IV drip feeding a cocktail of drugs into my hand to stabilize the pregnancy.
The doctor was speaking to Peter in a low, serious tone. "The impact caused fetal distress. The mother is in a fragile state. She cannot handle any more severe emotional stress."
Peter sat by my bed, his hand gripping mine, his thumb stroking my skin. His eyes were shot with red.
"Sienna, I'm so sorry."
I turned my head away, staring at the wall.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead on our joined hands. "Don't be scared. I'm right here. I'm not leaving your side for a second."
The words had barely left his mouth when his phone blared with a sharp ringtone.
His body tensed. He didn't move.
The phone rang again, and again, stubbornly persistent.
Finally, he released my hand, his face a canvas of guilt. He stood up. "Sienna, I I'll be right back. It might be an emergency over there."
"Peter." My voice was eerily calm, my gaze fixed on the ceiling.
"Let's get a divorce."
He froze, as if nailed to the floor. After a long moment, he slowly turned, the color drained from his face.
"Sienna, what did you just say?"
"A divorce." My eyes finally met his. "I said, I want a divorce."
He rushed back to the bed, reaching for my hand again, but I pulled it away.
"Sienna, don't do this. I know you're angry, but don't scare me like this," he stammered, his eyes wide with panic. "Wait here, I'll go get you that chestnut pastry you love, and that taro bubble tea you just showed me, okay?"
"No."
"I hate taro. And I never showed you that drink. Even the late-night snack you brought me last night that was Lily's favorite."
"The moment you saw that boy, you thought of her, didn't you?"
"So," I looked away, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion, "let's just get a divorce."
He shook his head violently, his voice cracking. "No, that's impossible. You're my wife. We have a child on the way. We're a family!"
"A family?" I repeated softly, a faint, bitter curve on my lips.
"Then tell me, Peter, when I collapsed where were you?"
His lips parted, but no words came out.
"You were with Lily and her son, playing happy family for the camera!"
I shoved him away, grabbing the pillow and the medical chart from the nightstand and hurling them at him.
"If they hadn't used my number as the emergency contact, would you have just kept me in the dark forever? Let me play the fool and pretend everything was fine?"
"Peter! If you can't let her go, why drag me into your misery? Why should I have to be the cover for your great, tragic love story?"
He was pale, his voice raspy as he tried to explain. "Sienna, listen to me The kids at school, they bully him. They call him a bastard for not having a father."
"I just wanted I just wanted to give him some comfort. Your father cheated, you must know what it's like to grow up without a dad. It was just one picture. We'll have a million chances to take our own. But Lily this was her only wish before she starts chemo. I couldn't say no"
Couldn't say no.
His weak defense extinguished the last bit of warmth in my heart.
"You couldn't say no to her, so you felt fine lying to me?"
I started to laugh, but the laughter turned into tears I couldn't stop. "You needed to give your past a perfect ending. You needed to give them closure. So what about me? What about our baby?"
"What are we?"
3
That day, as Lily lay in the chemotherapy ward, nearly not waking up, Peter still left.
After he was gone, I picked up my phone.
The first call was to my lawyer to draft the divorce papers.
The second was to his mother.
There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a deep sigh.
"Sienna, I am so sorry. I have a house in coastal Maine. Go there. I won't tell Peter where you are."
"You were the one who pulled him out of that darkness. I have no right to ask you to stay now."
After hanging up, my gaze fell to my right shoulder, where a dull ache always bloomed on rainy days.
After Lily had left him all those years ago, Peter had spiraled. He crashed his car while street racing, a wreck so bad the doctors said he might never walk again.
Everyone thought he was finished.
That's when I, fresh from the grief of my own mother's suicide, applied for the job as his caregiver.
I spent every day by his bedside, talking to him, massaging his atrophying muscles.
He would throw fits, knocking food trays to the floor. I would just quietly clean it up and make him another meal.
"Get out!" he'd roar at me. "I don't need your pity!"
I would just look at him and say, "Peter, if you want to die, you have to stand up first. Walk out of here on your own two feet and do it with dignity. Then we can die together."
I don't know which words finally broke through, but he started physical therapy.
From sitting up to standing, every step of his recovery was with his arm slung over my shoulder, his entire weight bearing down on me as I willed him forward.
The day he learned to walk again, he held me so tight, his hot tears soaking into the collar of my shirt.
"Sienna," his voice was impossibly hoarse, "you saved my life. From now on, my life is yours."
This shoulder had once carried the full weight of his despair, and the ugliest years of our lives.
My phone buzzed, pulling me from the memory.
I opened the message.
It was a photo. My mother's gold banglesthe only thing she left mewere dangling from a dog's leg.
Beneath it, a line of text:
"He said these bangles were incredibly important to you, so he wouldn't give them to me. But my son liked them, said they looked good on Sparky. He called Peter 'daddy' a few times, and just like that, he gave them to my son. Thanks for the gift."
Blood rushed to my head. My hands started to shake uncontrollably.
I ripped the IV needle from my arm and, ignoring the nurse's protests, stormed out of the room.
I threw open the door to Lily's room. She was propped up in bed, a healthy flush on her cheeks, petting the dog.
"Give them to me," I demanded, my voice trembling.
Lily slowly stroked the bangles on the dog's leg and smiled. "Oh, don't be so stingy. It's just a pair of gold bangles."
"I heard they were a gift from your mother, the one who got cheated on. If my son didn't like them, I'd think they were bad luck."
She paused, looking me up and down. "Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you."
She pointed a finger at the sofa beside her bed, her eyes glinting with provocation.
"Last night, right where you're sitting now, Peter and I went at it all night. He told me he never forgot me. He said having you around was torture for him."
"Sienna, I used to treat him like dirt, and he still comes crawling back, licking my hand like a dog. You really are pathetic, aren't you?"
My mind went blank with a roar of white noise. A wave of indescribable nausea churned in my stomach.
When I came to, Lily was on the floor, clutching her face in disbelief.
I lunged again, grabbing a handful of her hair and dragging her toward the bathroom. I wanted to silence her. I shoved her head under the shower spray, the cold water blasting her face.
"You don't deserve to even say my mother's name!"
"Ahh, Peter! Help me!" she shrieked, her hands clawing wildly at my arms.
"Sienna! What the hell are you doing!"
Peter burst into the room. He seized my wrist and flung me away with brutal force.
My back slammed into the wall. I still tried to lunge for Lily.
"Have you lost your damn mind?" he roared, standing between me and Lily, his eyes filled with undisguised rage and a chilling coldness.
"She's on chemo! She's not going to threaten your status as Mrs. Croft. Look at the state of you! You're acting just as crazy as your mother did before she killed herself! You're an unhinged, irrational mess!"
CRACK.
The sound echoed in the small room. I had slapped him with every last bit of strength I had.
"Peter," I whispered, "you're not even human."

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