My Impossible Pregnancy With My Sterile Husband

I got pregnant unexpectedly during the cooling-off period of my divorce from my emotionally distant, mostly silent husband.

Hoping to salvage the marriage, I asked, If we had a baby, would we have been able to avoid this?

Rory Montgomerys voice was as flat as a straight line on an EKG. The outcome would be the same.

I nodded, the realization a cold, painful ache in my chest, and managed a desolate smile.

Three months later, I went for a check-up at the clinic.

And, of course, thats when I ran into Rory. He was there looking for a colleague in the OB-GYN department.

He froze when he saw me.

His colleague, an older doctor, asked him, "Acquaintance?"

Rorys eyes were locked on me. His knuckles were white against the clipboard he was holding. "My ex-wife."

01

Good news: I was pregnant.

Bad news: We were in the middle of our divorce cooling-off period.

My best friend, Mina, gets all the major updates first.

I snapped a picture of the pregnancy test and sent it to her. Her reply was an entire screen of capital-letter obscenities.

"Is it Rorys?"

I rolled my eyes. "Whose else would it be?"

Mina chuckled knowingly. "Well, then, what the hell are you two divorcing for?"

I hung up the phone and walked out of the clinic, the city noise immediately assaulting me.

My mind was looping back to the fight Rory and I had two weeks ago.

Though fight wasnt really the word. A fight requires two people to be equally engaged. Between Rory and me, it was always a one-woman showme, unloading.

He, for the most part, maintained a horrifying, impenetrable silence.

The reason for the blowout was typical.

Id spent another night out with friends and gotten dropped off at the condo in the morning.

Rorys reaction was to call our family doctor and then head straight to his shift at the hospital.

He was a doctor. A specialist, in fact. My husband.

Why couldn't he stay and help me sober up?

Why couldn't he handle the dry-cleaning for my ruined dress?

Why... wasn't there even a single word of accusation?

What did I even count for in his life?

I nursed my resentment, waiting for him to come home from the hospital.

But Rory didn't return until noon the next day.

I finally snapped. I threw a ceramic mug against the hardwood floor and demanded to know what he meant by all this.

He calmly lifted his gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked profoundly exhausted.

"What drama are you starting now, Zoe?" he said.

I almost laugheda nasty, wounded sound.

"Don't you have anything to say to me?"

Accuse me. Yell at me. Be hysterical. Anything. Just don't be a still, calm, empty well.

Rory paused, his gaze briefly sweeping over the scattered pieces of the broken mug on the floor.

When he looked back up, his voice was heavy. "No."

That was it. I lost it. Emotion flared up, blinding me. "Fine. Let's just get divorced."

Rory stood absolutely still, just staring at me.

A flicker of panic ran through me.

But the words were out. My pride wouldn't let me back down now.

So, I lifted my chin and met his gaze defiantly.

After a long stretch of silence, Rorys voice was dry, almost a whisper. "Alright."

Then, he simply turned and walked upstairs.

I was left there, paralyzed. It took me a full minute to process that he had agreedjust like that.

He let go so easily?

As I came back to reality, a shard of glass from the broken mug pierced my skin. The sudden pain made me gasp. Staring at the familiar fragments, I suddenly understood why Rory had looked at the floor for so long.

That mug was the first gift I ever bought for him.

02

Irritable and lost, I drove back to the condo.

My father had bought the place for me.

Rory, not having the means to afford it, had moved in only after my father had finished ridiculing him and ordered him to.

A little while later, one of my contactsa frenemytexted me Rorys hospital shift schedule.

It was almost time for him to get off. I rushed out, making sure to grab the pregnancy test report.

A hidden surge of anticipation rose in my chest.

What would Rory look like? What would he say? Hed probably be stunned senseless.

I didn't even realize I was smiling.

At the Metropolitan Hospital, I found his familiar sedan in the parking garage and waited.

Half an hour later, his tall figure appeared.

Rory was wearing a trench coat. His expression was cool, aloofhe looked like a robot running on minimal operating power.

I watched him approach, a greedy hunger rising in me.

Since wed filed the initial paperwork at the courthouse last week, we hadn't seen each other.

He looked thinner.

The dark circles under his eyes seemed deeper.

I felt a sudden, fierce urge to lock him up in the condo, keep him away from everything. Away from the hospital, away from his ridiculous job, away from anything that took his energy and time.

I was about to get out of the car.

Then, I saw a woman run up to him from behind.

My eyes narrowed. I stopped moving.

Outside, they stood there, talking.

I couldn't hear what they were saying, but then I saw itthe slight, almost imperceptible curve of a smile on Rorys lips.

The report in my hand instantly crumpled, the paper gaining deep, permanent creases.

In the year we'd been married, I had never seen Rory show any unnecessary emotion.

He was always calm, cold, or simply oblivious to me.

Even in bed, he was clinical and dispassionate, treating the act like an obligation to be fulfilled.

But now. He smiled. He was smiling at a random woman.

It felt as though something Id begged and starved for was being casually picked up by someone else.

Before I could fully react, the woman got into Rory's car.

A cold laugh escaped me. No wonder he agreed to the divorce so easily.

He couldn't wait to start his next chapter, apparently.

In a moment of self-torture, I followed their car discreetly.

I kept guessing their destination. A hotel? Rorys new apartment?

The result was a surprise. Rory only dropped her off at the entrance of a residential building.

Then, he drove away.

I hesitated for a moment, then sped up to follow.

I managed to cut him off in the parking garage of the condo.

He must have spotted my car earlier.

He stopped and waited for me. "What is it?"

I bit my lip, the wordswho is that woman? and I'm pregnantall getting tangled in my throat.

I was about to speak when his phone suddenly ranga harsh, immediate sound.

I answered it impatiently.

On the other end, a guy's voice teased, "Princess Z, I've got a divorce celebration party lined up for you. All your favorites are here~"

I saw Rorys jaw instantly clench.

03

Seeing the stormy look on his face gave me a twisted sense of gratification.

I was about to hang up, but I stopped myself, deliberately saying, "Oh, I'll be there in a bit. Got some irritating stuff to deal with first."

I hadn't even finished speaking when Rory turned to head for the elevator.

I quickly hung up the phone and followed him. "What is your relationship with that woman?"

Rory didnt answer. His strides got longer.

I hated this attitude the most. I trailed after him. "I'm telling you, we're not officially divorced yet. You'd better remember the prenuptial agreement, or my father will"

Rory suddenly stopped. I slammed into his broad back.

My nose stung violently, and tears welled up immediately.

Rory was still facing away from me. His voice was low and rough. "I have always kept your fathers words in mind."

His tone was hard to reada hint of disgust, perhaps a touch of numbness.

I didnt have time to process it. My fingers clutched the crumpled report. I was hesitant, yet strangely nervous.

I collected myself and cautiously tried the question again. "If we had a baby, would we have been able to avoid this?"

For me, the child was meant to be the culmination of our love. I had wanted one since we got married.

I wasnt sure why it hadnt happened. We were both perfectly healthy.

But I'd resigned myself to letting things happen naturally.

Then, this baby arrived. Right on time for our impending divorce.

A rare surge of shy hope rose in me.

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

The next second, Rory simply replied, his tone chillingly distant. "The outcome would be the same."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

The report I was ready to pull out suddenly became a mangled mess in my hand.

The outcome would be the same? He truly didn't care about me?

Or his own flesh and blood?

I gave a bitter, self-mocking laugh.

Right. Rory never loved me.

Why would he love a child born to me?

My pride, however, wouldn't allow me to show weakness. I pinched my palm, fighting back tears.

"You're right. A baby from you would probably be disgusting. I should look for a better father."

After dropping that low blow, I practically fled back to my car.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring the images on the ultrasound report.

"Im sorry. Im so sorry Mama shouldnt have said that about you. Youre not disgusting, youre my precious baby..."

"Its all your awful fathers fault. He just doesnt love us..."

04

Back at the condo, I smashed the framed wedding photos on the wall.

When the rage cooled, I was left with a tragic thought: a seed planted in bad soil can't bear good fruit.

I met Rory in college.

I was visiting some of my friends at his university.

I saw him speaking as the student representative for his cohort.

Under the harsh spotlights, Rory wore a plain white button-down shirt.

The hall around him seemed to darken, the light pooling on his face, making him the only focus.

He read his speech, his voice clear and cool, just like him.

My hair stirred slightly.

I remember thinking, How can there be a breeze when all the windows are closed?

Then I realized: Oh. It's my heart beating.

After that day, I launched an aggressive pursuit of Rory.

The more he rejected me, the more obsessed I became.

Eventually, I think I forgot whether I truly loved him or was just fighting for my pride and the sheer refusal to lose.

Rory was the hardest person Id ever tried to chase.

Money? He didn't care.

Power? He wouldn't submit.

Love? He seemed to have plenty of that, just not for me.

I pursued him relentlessly for four years. The most intimate we ever got was a forced kiss.

Sometimes, I had a cruel thought: Could I be the one to bring him down from that pedestal?

Perhaps the universe heard me.

In his first year of graduate school, both his parents were diagnosed with serious illnesses that required urgent, expensive care.

I saw it as my opportunity to break through his defenses.

But Rory refused my financial help.

He said his advisor would find him contacts in the industry.

I was enraged, giving up on this ancient tree that refused to bend for me.

On my 25th birthday, I had a perfect excuse to get publicly drunk without people suspecting it was over a broken heart.

But my father delivered a massive gift.

"That boy you like? I brought him home for you," he said.

With my father's ruthless, swift intervention, Rory and I got married.

I told myself he must have liked me a little.

Otherwise, why would a man of such integrity agree?

But it only took a few months of marriage for me to realize something was wrong.

Rorys attitude toward me was no different than before.

He was still early to rise and late to bed, only answering when I asked a direct question.

I couldnt stand his coolness. One night, I tried to slip him a little something.

Rory, completely calm, called a cab and headed straight to the ER.

I only managed to consummate the marriage after literally tying him to a chair out of pure force.

After that, Rory became even colder.

No matter what I did, he accepted it with an eerie calm.

I performed like a clown, desperate for his attention, only to be met with endless apathy.

05

When I told my father about the divorce, he showed no significant reaction.

Instead, he said, almost with relief, "You two were never a good match. It's better to let go sooner."

I forced a tight smile, not daring to tell him about the baby.

I suspect my father had a hand in it, but news of my divorce quickly spread through the Chicago social circles.

The men who used to swarm me suddenly reappeared.

I was ready to turn them down.

But a sudden surge of resentment gave me a cruel idea: I accepted an invitation and chose a restaurant near Rorys hospital.

As luck would have it, he was there for a staff dinner.

When he walked past my table, where I was with one of the guys, his eyes didn't even flicker in my direction.

I gritted my teeth, staring daggers at his retreating back.

When I saw him get up to use the restroom, I casually followed.

Rory saw me and calmly looked away.

Just as I was trying to figure out the most hurtful thing to say, he spoke first:

"If your period is coming soon, you should skip the crab."

I was stunned.

I instinctively remembered the two days before my period, when the cramps would leave me writhing in pain. Rory would always take time off to stay home with me.

I gave a bitter laugh. I felt nothing but contempt.

We were getting divorced. Why was he still pretending to care?

I was frustrated. I nudged his leg lightly with my foot. "You still haven't picked up your things."

Rory bent down and brushed the dust off his trousers. "Throw them away."

I clenched my fists. "Right. They're just junk anyway. I have no use for them."

Rory fell silent.

He had already walked out of the restroom but came back in.

"If they're useless, can I have the opal pendant back?"

I stared at him, incredulous.

That cheap opal pendant was the only thing Rory had ever given mehe shoved it into my hand on our wedding day.

Though I despised its negligible value, I hadn't thrown it away. It was sleeping alongside my designer jewelry in a box.

And now? He dared to ask for it back?

My chest heaved. I felt a sudden, visceral urge to choke him.

I'm selfish. What's mine is mine.

So I said, "I already threw it out."

Rory flinched, then gave me a long, deep look.

I couldn't read the complex emotion in his dark eyes.

But I could sense the drop in the air pressure around him.

What was he angry about? I should be the angry one!

06

After that ugly confrontation, we didn't communicate again.

Wait, that's not right. We did.

He called to tell me to go to the courthouse for the official divorce.

I overslept and missed the appointment.

Then, I blocked his number.

Three months later, my belly was beginning to show.

I was planning on going to my regular clinic.

But then, on a whim, I changed my mind.

I efficiently checked in for my appointment, my eyes constantly scanning the room.

But no.

He wasnt there.

I gave a self-deprecating chuckle. When my name was called, I went in.

The baby was healthy and cooperative.

The doctor complimented the quality of the father's sperm.

I scoffed internally. Too good, apparently.

I was about to leave.

But then, I ran into Roryhe was there to see a colleague in the OB-GYN department.

He froze when he saw me.

I clearly saw the shock in his eyes.

His colleague, noticing the tension, joked, "Acquaintance?"

Rorys Adam's apple bobbed.

His gaze fell on the ultrasound report sitting on the colleague's desk.

He finally spoke, his voice low and strained. "My ex-wife."

The air went dead. His colleague was completely taken aback.

But professionalism took over, and the doctor finished the conversation.

Rory stood there the whole time, listening to every detail.

A strange, complex feeling welled up in me.

If we hadn't been getting divorced, this is exactly what it would have been like.

As I left, Rory looked visibly upset.

He changed out of his scrubs and followed me down to the parking garage.

"Why didnt you show up for the divorce?"

My earlier good mood evaporated.

Asshole! That's the first thing you say to me?!

He truly didn't care about the baby?

I ignored his question and snapped sarcastically, "Can't you tell I'm pregnant?"

Rorys expression remained flat. "I see. So, why didn't you go?"

I felt like Rory and I were a match of dynamite and a lighter. We couldn't touch without exploding.

I gave a cold laugh.

"Dr. Montgomery, are you really not suspicious that this child might be yours?"

As the words left my mouth, Rorys expression darkened even further.

I was satisfied to see his discomfort, yet the victory felt hollow.

I was about to tell him the truththat this was indeed his child.

But the next second, Rory looked up, his eyes cold and hard.

He said, without a hint of emotion, "I had a vasectomy a year ago. So no, its not mine."