Child, Dad, and Uncle

My husband's friend had a birthday party for her child, and the little one clung to my husband, calling him Daddy.

The friend casually explained, Oh, don't mind it, darling. A godfather is like a dad, right?

I gently touched my belly, a serene smile gracing my lips.

If the child's actual father doesn't mind, why would I?

Meeting my husband's warning gaze, a look that told me not to cause a scene, my smile sharpened with mockery.

You can let another woman's child call you Daddy.

And I can let the child in my womb call someone else Daddy.

Once again, Willows son latched onto my husband, Jackson, mumbling "Daddy," his tiny hands clutching Jacksons collar tightly.

Jacksons eyes almost disappeared into a beaming smile.

He gave the chubby little boy a kiss before seemingly noticing me standing there. A touch of awkwardness crossed his face as he said,

"Why are you just standing here? You're pregnant, you should go inside and sit down."

I gently stroked my still-flat belly, my voice cool and even.

"In a moment. All your best friends are coming today, aren't they? Perfect. I'll pick out a father for my baby."

Jacksons face instantly darkened. He gripped my wrist tightly, his voice a low, seething growl.

"Eveleigh, I'm not dead yet. Are you in such a rush to find a stepfather for our child?"

I retorted, unfazed,

"What, Jackson? Willow can find a dad for her child in you, but I can't find one for mine?"

"Honestly, you're such a hypocrite."

"To spare your feelings, I'm only planning to pick from your closest friends. Surely you trust your own friends?"

Jackson's face cycled through shades of red and green. He was speechless, utterly choked by my words.

Willow, cradling her son, quickly stepped in to smooth things over.

"Darling, you're wrong about that. Men are all bad news, even Jackson can be a real sneak sometimes!"

Her words held an undeniable hint of intimacy.

I smiled at her, a hint of resignation in my eyes.

"See, you're just as hypocritical. Your son can have my husband as his daddy, but my baby can't have someone else as a daddy?"

"Tell you what, why don't you introduce me to your son's actual father? Ill have him be my childs godfather. Its only fair, a nice exchange, isn't it?"

The smile on Willow's face froze solid.

Jackson gave me a helpless look, his expression softening slightly. He put an arm around me, trying to appease me.

"Alright, alright, you'll say anything to provoke me."

"Willow and I are just friends, and her son calling me 'godfather' was something we agreed on ages ago. Please don't be so jealous, okay?"

Willow chimed in,

"Darling, what kind of talk is that? I had a child to appease my family, so I just found a stranger to be the father and raised him myself. I didn't want to be tied down by marriage forever."

"Besides, if Jackson and I had anything going on, we'd have a house full of kids by now. You wouldn't even be in the picture!"

"You just relax. Jackson and I grew up together. I still remember him with missing teeth and two snot trails hanging from his nose, grinning like an idiot. Who could ever be attracted to that?"

No sooner had she finished speaking than Jackson rolled his eyes playfully and threw an arm around her neck.

They tumbled into a playful scuffle.

I didn't get angry or try to intervene, as I might have in the past. I just watched them with a cold gaze.

The first time Jackson introduced me to his friends, Willow had also roughhoused with him.

After hed just introduced me, Willow, the only other woman there, immediately stood up.

"Well, look at you, old man! We agreed to stay single, and you went and secretly got a girlfriend?"

"A bet's a bet, now bark for me!"

Jackson immediately plunged into their antics, ending with Willow pinning him down and making him bark like a dog for the camera.

I stood there awkwardly, a strained smile on my face.

Since then, Id told Jackson countless times that he should maintain some distance from Willow.

Jackson always brushed it off, saying they were just friends, and he never thought of Willow as anything more than that.

I'd argued, I'd yelled, but each time, it only earned me Jackson's impatience or a half-hearted attempt to mollify me.

I resigned myself to trying to believe that their bond was truly just platonic.

The two of them finally stopped their antics. Willow said something, laughing, and Jackson reached out to pick up her son.

His hand brushed against Willow's chest, and after hed settled the child in his arms, he even jokingly nudged her with his elbow, earning him a sharp glare from Willow.

I watched, a self-deprecating laugh escaping my lips.

And that's "just friends"?

Her child is calling him Daddy, and Jackson is openly touching Willows chest in public, and they act like its completely normal.

And I was supposed to believe they had nothing but a pure friendship?

I watched coldly as Jackson carried the child to the "grabbing ceremony," Willow by his side, beaming shamelessly.

After a long while, my phone buzzed. Jackson, busy with Willow and her son, finally remembered to appease me.

[Alright, stop being mad and jealous. You're pregnant; emotional fluctuations aren't good for the baby.]

[Didn't you like a certain handbag earlier? Send me the link.]

Every time we argued because of Willow, Jackson would try to smooth things over like this.

In the past, I would have thrown my phone, accusing him of a guilty conscience, of only knowing how to bribe me with money.

Now, I calmly sent him the link to the handbag I liked.

He's already playing Daddy to his "friend's" child. Why would I still talk about feelings with him?

Im not that foolish.

Jackson didn't come home again that night.

His social media feed updated three times in one day: from the child's "grabbing ceremony" video in the morning to pictures of him playing cards and drinking at a bar that evening.

It was someone elses childs first birthday, and here he was, singing and dancing.

Anyone who didn't know would think

Thinking of him and Willow, and the child calling him "Daddy," I let out a cold laugh.

Everyone, whether they knew the truth or not, probably thought he was the child's real father.

The next day, I took samples of Jackson's hair and the child's hair to a paternity testing center.

Just as I was leaving, planning to grab a bowl of wontons nearby, someone called out, "Eveleigh?" from behind me.

A flicker of panic shot through me. I turned to see Luke, one of Jackson's close friends.

He still had a puzzled look on his face.

"So early, what are you doing here by yourself? Where's Jackson?"

I forced myself to sound calm.

"I came to the hospital next door for a prenatal check-up, just wandering around."

Luke didn't seem entirely convinced, but he ended up inviting me to have wontons with him.

We weren't very close to begin with, and the conversation was awkward, an uncomfortable back-and-forth.

Halfway through our meal, a man at the next table started talking loudly on his phone, his expression agitated.

Luke glanced over, then pulled his chair a little closer to my side.

The man hung up, then suddenly pulled a small knife from his bag and lunged towards us, muttering curses.

Lukes face changed dramatically. He instinctively threw himself in front of me.

"Watch out!"

The tip of the man's knife grazed Luke's arm!

I screamed in terror, instinctively recoiling. My foot caught, and I fell heavily to the ground.

The agitated man was quickly subdued by helpful bystanders. Seeing the blood spreading on Lukes sleeve, my face turned ashen.

Someone offered us a ride to the hospital.

On the way, my hands shaking, I pulled out my phone to call Jackson.

He hung up the first time, but I patiently called again.

This time, it connected, but instead of Jackson's face, the screen showed a plump shoulder.

On a whim, I recorded the screen.

The next second, Willows voice, thick with sleep and laziness, came through the receiver.

"Hello? Oh, Eveleigh. Whats up with Jackson? He drank too much last night, and he's showering now."

The atmosphere in the car became thick with unspoken tension.

I frowned, my voice still trembling with residual fear.

"Tell him to come to the hospital immediately. I've sent him the address."

Jackson finally arrived over two hours later.

Luke's arm was already bandaged. He sat beside me, defiantly playing a game on his phone.

Jackson pushed the door open, looking tired and irritated, his tone laced with annoyance.

"What's wrong? Why did you insist I come to the hospital so early? Are you having morning sickness again? Other people get sick too, why are you always so delicate?"

Willow's voice followed closely.

"Exactly, Jackson. Eveleigh is a bit too much of a 'delicate darling.' Morning sickness requires a hospital visit, and she needs you by her side."

"When I was pregnant, I went through it all by myself."

I rolled my eyes.

I remembered who it was that demanded fish in the middle of the night, insisting Jackson go catch it fresh. And every single prenatal check-up during her pregnancy? Wasn't Jackson always by her side?

Jackson finally noticed Luke in the hospital room, his brow furrowed as he began to question him.

"What are you doing here?"

Luke put away his phone and sneered.

"Jackson, it's bad enough you didn't come with Eveleigh for her prenatal check-up. But earlier at breakfast, a lunatic attacked us with a knife. Eveleigh was terrified. Shouldn't you be here comforting her?"

Jackson froze, a flicker of guilt and shame crossing his face. He immediately rushed over and took my hand.

"Wife, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot about your appointment today."

"Last night, it was a rare chance to get together with the guys, so I drank a bit too much. Are you okay?"

I pulled my hand away coldly and turned my back to him.

Willow remained unfazed.

"Oh, Luke, you sly dog, playing the hero for her."

"Alright, Jackson. Eveleigh's fine, isn't she? Didn't you say you were taking my son on an outing today? It's about time."

Jackson's tone was a little cold.

"Something came up today. Another time."

Willow tried to say something else, but Luke gently ushered her out.

Jackson went around to the other side of the bed to coax me.

"Wife, I'm sorry. I swear I won't ever forget again, okay?"

I closed my eyes, ignoring him.

Jackson eagerly pulled out his phone screen to show me.

"Wife, look, I already bought that bag you sent me yesterday."

"Didn't you also like a bracelet before? I bought that for you too. Please don't be mad anymore, okay?"

Noticing that I no longer resisted him holding my hand, Jackson seemed to relax a little.

A few minutes later, he casually brought up,

"How did you run into Luke today, and why were you having breakfast with him?"

"In the future, when I'm not around, you should spend less time with other men."

No sooner had he spoken than the hospital room door opened. The doctor walked in with the test results.

"Patient in Room 39, your test results show signs of a threatened miscarriage. The fright and fall you experienced have had a significant impact on the fetus. You must maintain absolute bed rest, keep your emotions stable, and avoid any further mishaps."

The doctor's words were like a stinging slap across Jacksons face.

He stood frozen, seemingly just realizing the gravity of the situation.

After the doctor left, before Jackson could speak, I tossed my phone to him.

"You complain about me having wontons with your friend outside the hospital, but what about you? Aren't you going to explain yourself?"

Jackson picked up the phone, looking puzzled. When he saw the video on the screen, his face instantly went white.