Erase the Stain

The moment I saw my husband Henrys name filled in the Family Signature section, I knew he was cheating.

Im an obstetrician, specializing in deliveries. In that instant, I stared at his name for a full five seconds. The nurse beside me stamped her foot impatiently. Dr. Evelyn, hurry! The patients already in, and the family is waiting in the hallway!

I didnt move.

Because just last night, during our video call, Henry had been complaining to me. He said his business trip to Seattle would last half a month. He said he couldnt sleep without me.

With that thought, I picked up the consent form and pushed open the door leading to the delivery ward hallway.

On a chair in the corridor, Henry sat, head bowed, meticulously peeling an apple. He peeled it so carefully, the skin a single unbroken coil. Yet, in our two years of marriage, he had never once peeled an apple for me.

The moment he looked up and saw me, the apple slipped from his hand and hit the floor. Ev Evelyn? I thought you were at your fellowship He pointed at me, his lips trembling.

I didnt answer. I simply held out the consent form, even unscrewing the pen cap for him. Mr. McCarthy, you missed one signature.

Hurry, your wife is waiting for you.

Henrys face went white. His mouth opened and closed twice, but no sound came out.

Sign it. I repeated, my voice steady, cold.

He took the pen with a trembling hand, his gaze darting wildly, unsure where to look. Evelyn, listen to me, its not what you think.

Im not thinking anything. I pointed to the last line on the form. Family confirms consent for delivery, sign here. He looked down, seeing his name printed under Spouse. Next to it were the patients details: Maya Croft, 27 years old, first delivery. His pen tip hovered over the paper, hesitant to descend. Evelyn, I can really explain.

I didnt look at him. I pulled the form from his hand, using the pen to tick a box in the family section for him. No time for explanations. Dilation is almost complete. As I turned, he reached out to grab me. I sidestepped, and his hand met empty air. Nurses bustled back and forth in the corridor. Family members dozed on benches, clutching thermoses. No one saw him reach out. And no one knew the doctor walking into the delivery room had just encountered her own husband bringing another woman to give birth.

I pushed open the delivery room door. The lights inside were bright. A young woman lay on the delivery bed. Round-faced, her bangs plastered to her forehead with sweat, her eyes red, clutching the bedsheet tightly. She saw me enter and offered a nervous smile. Hello, Doctor. Im a little scared.

Thats normal. Relax. I lowered my head, flipping through her medical chart. 39 weeks and 2 days pregnant, normal fetal position, complete prenatal check-up records. The signature for every single check-up was Henry McCarthy. From week 12 to week 39, not a single one missed. I did the math. She got pregnant about ten months ago. What was I doing ten months ago? I was discussing with Henry whether we should enclose the balcony to plant flowers. He said yes, hed find someone to do it after his business trip. That balcony was never enclosed. He said he was too busy. Turns out, he was busy accompanying someone else to prenatal check-ups.

I closed the chart and walked to the delivery bed. Maya reached out to me. Doctor, could you please call my husband in? I want him to be with me. I looked down at her hand. A ring adorned her left ring finger. Platinum, set with small diamonds, with an engraving inside the band. I didnt need to get closer to know what was engraved. It was my wedding band. Three months ago, Henry said he lost it at the gym, searched for days but couldnt find it, and promised to buy me a new one. Now it was on another womans hand. This woman lay on the delivery bed, calling my husband her husband. Wearing my ring.

Doctor? Maya watched me cautiously.

I withdrew my hand. Family cant come into the delivery room for now. He can come in after youve given birth. I offered her a smile. That smile took all my strength.

The contractions grew more frequent. Mayas forehead glistened with sweat, and her lips were bitten raw. But she never screamed, just endured in muffled tones, occasionally whimpering. When the pain became unbearable, shed clutch the bedsheet, mumbling, My husband says itll be over after I give birth, itll be over after I give birth. I adjusted the fetal heart monitor, not responding to her words. She was probably too nervous and started talking incessantly. Some people curse when theyre in pain, some cry. Maya was the talkative type.

Doctor, my husband is really good to me.

Mhm.

He says hes been waiting for this baby for a long time.

Mhm.

He was in a relationship before, it didnt work out. Then he met me, and he said he knew I was the one for him, forever.

I smoothed the monitor wires, keeping silent.

Weve been together for almost two years. Maya added, a hint of pride in her voice.

Almost two years. Henry and I got our marriage license exactly two years and three months ago. Overlap. It overlapped from the very beginning. Which meant, he started this soon after we got married. Our honeymoon period wasnt even over.

Maya probably saw my expression was too calm, assuming I wasnt interested, and changed the subject. Doctor, are you married?

Mhm.

Then your husband must also feel for you. Being a doctor is so tough.

I handed her the straw cup. Drink some water. Youll need the strength later. She took the cup, drank a few sips, and started talking again. What moves me most about my husband is that hes willing to start over for me.

His previous relationship ended badly. He said the other person clung to him for a long time.

Later, he moved, changed his phone number, and finally found peace.

I heard the words moved. My fingers paused for a second. Where do you live now? I asked casually, like idle chatter. Maya didnt think much of it and gave an address.

Emerald Lakes, Building 14, Apartment 1602.

My pupils constricted. Emerald Lakes, Building 14, Apartment 1602. That was my property. My parents bought it outright before I was married, in my name. Henry and I moved in together after we got married, living there for over a year. Before I left for my fellowship, Henry said his commute was too long, and he wanted to move closer to his company, suggesting I rent out the Emerald Lakes apartment. I agreed. He said he found a tenant for me, three thousand five hundred a month, paid into my account. Three thousand five hundred. He did transfer three thousand five hundred to me every month.

It wasnt the tenants money. It was his own money, a pretense. He was living in my apartment, with another woman, spending my money, and pretending to collect rent every month.

Maya was still talking. Our apartment is so nice. He decorated it himself, and he planted so many flowers on the balcony.

The flowers on the balcony. They were jasmine and mint that I had planted before I left. I had watered them for half a year, fertilized them countless times. Now, they were his gift of romance to another woman.

Doctor? You dont look so good. Are you alright?

Im fine. I adjusted my mask. The air in the delivery room is stuffy. Its normal.

Another wave of contractions hit. Maya was too much in pain to speak. She arched her back, panting desperately, her hands gripping the side rails. I looked at her, thinking, Youre living in my apartment, wearing my ring, carrying my husbands child, and now youre lying on my delivery bed, asking me to deliver your baby. Maya, do you know how absurd this world can be sometimes? And I am the only one in this entire room who knows the script.

The labor progressed faster than expected. Mayas physical condition was good, the babys weight was moderate, and the fetal heart rate remained stable. It was a smooth delivery. As I acknowledged this inwardly, a bitter taste filled my mouth. Profession was profession, personal matters were personal.

I stood by the delivery bed, guiding her to breathe, push, breathe, and push again. Mayas face was streaked with tears and sweat, gritting her teeth, she strained with my rhythm. In between contractions, she kept speaking, brokenly, as if only talking could lessen her fear.

My husband said he said hed wait outside all night

He also said if its a boy wed name him Henry Jr. meaning peaceful

Henry Jr. A nice name. What did Henry say when we discussed names for our future children? He said not to rush, to wait until his career was more stable. Wait until the mortgage was paid off. Wait until he returned from his business trip. Wait until next month. Wait until next year. I waited for two years, and it turns out he wasnt waiting for the right moment. He was waiting for someone else to get pregnant.

Push, one last time. I pushed down all other thoughts, fully concentrating as I delivered the baby.

A boy. Six pounds, eight ounces. His cry was loud and clear, filling the entire delivery room with his wails. Maya lay exhausted on the bed, her face a mix of tears and sweat, a foolish grin on her lips.

Is it a boy?

Yes.

Thats wonderful, he finally has a son. She emphasized finally, as if she had completed some monumental task for Henry.

The labor and delivery nurse took the baby for cleaning, while I performed the final stitches. Maya tilted her head, watching the baby, and suddenly said, Doctor, thank you.

Youre welcome.

No, Im not talking about the delivery. Her voice was weak but sincere. My husband had a difficult past. His ex-wife the woman who clung to him, she got sick and passed away. My hand, holding the suture needle, paused. Hes truly a good man with a loyal heart. Every spring, he says he goes to visit her grave, suffering alone.

Last spring he took me to San Diego, saying he needed a change of scenery, but he was distracted the whole day. He said he didnt want his ex-wife to be too lonely by herself there.

So Im especially grateful to fate for bringing me to him. And thank you, for safely bringing our child into this world. She smiled through her tears. I looked at her young, unguarded face and suddenly found it absurd.

He told this woman I was dead. I was alive and well, working at a hospital three miles away, delivering babies, doing rounds, writing medical charts every day. In his story, I was an ex-wife who had passed away, a dead person used to elicit sympathy.

I finished the stitching, removed my gloves. Rest for a bit. The nurse will bring the baby to you soon. Maya hummed in acknowledgment and reached out to stop me. Doctor, wait. Help me look at something. She struggled to pull a velvet pouch from a small bag beside her pillow, emptying out a jade ring. Verdant green, with an orchid carved into the silver setting. My husband said this is a family heirloom his grandmother left him. He told me to wear it after I gave birth, to ward off evil. Do you think its valuable?

I stared at that ring. Only one in the whole world. My mother wore it for twenty years before she died, taking it off her hand and pressing it into mine as she passed. My little Jasmine, this is for you. Mom has nothing else to leave you. I had locked it in my jewelry box at home. Henry had told me six months ago that we had been robbed, that the jewelry box was pried open, and my mothers jade ring and some gold jewelry were stolen. He had even taken me to the police station to file a report.

Now it was on Mayas hand. Left by his grandmother. To ward off evil for her.

Quite valuable. I heard my own voice. Keep it safe.

I walked out of the delivery room. The hallway was empty. I leaned against the wall, pulling out my phone. I opened my banking app, navigating to the joint account with Henry. Balance: 0-0083.46. I scrolled through the transaction history. One by one.

Outgoing, $50,000.

Outgoing, $30,000.

Outgoing, $80,000.

Outgoing, outgoing, outgoing.

Each transaction to the same recipient, the memo always blank. Two years, $410,000 transferred out. My hand, clutching the phone, finally began to shake. Not from fear, but my body was breaking down before my mind.

I stood in the hallway for about three minutes. Deep breaths, exhale, inhale, exhale. When my hand stopped shaking, I locked my phone and put it back in my pocket. Pushing the door, I returned to the nurses station.

The duty nurse was filling out newborn records. Seeing me, she called out, Dr. Evelyn, the family for 1602 has been asking outside if they can come in to see the baby. 1602. Even their delivery room number was the same as my house number.

Let him in. Mother and baby are fine. Tell him to be careful not to touch the patients stitches. My voice was flat. The nurse gave me an extra glance. Dr. Evelyn, you look terrible. Do you want to take a break?

No, Im just going to the restroom. One of the light tubes in the restroom was broken, flickering. I leaned over the sink, cold water running through my fingers. The person in the mirror looked unfamiliar. My eyes were red, but I wasnt crying. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. A strange feeling, my heart empty, as if everything had broken.

I pulled out my phone, opening Henrys chat. The last message was from 11:07 PM last night, from him. Goodnight, wife. Seattle is boiling, I miss you so much. Go to bed early. It was accompanied by a photo of a hotel king-sized bed. I took a screenshot, saving it to my album.

I scrolled up.

Day before yesterday: Meetings all day, so exhausted. More tomorrow.

Three days ago: Seattle is so boring. Home is best.

Every message was a lie. Every message typed so smoothly, so naturally. When did it become so effortless for him to lie? I closed the chat. Opened my album, flipping to our joint photos. Last year for Thanksgiving, he took me to San Diego. In the photo, we stood by the ocean, he held me from behind, his eyes crinkling in a smile. I remembered him saying that day, Evelyn, lets go somewhere new every year, and when we have kids, well bring them along. I said yes.

Back then, I didnt know that in his heart, there was only an expiration date for me. I scrolled past our photos. The most recent three months of photos were all from the hospital: fellowship notes, cafeteria meals. No him. Because he wasnt there. Or rather, he was there. In my apartment, with another woman. Peeling apples for her, taking her to prenatal check-ups, putting his ear to her belly to listen to the baby move. Then at eleven at night, hed video call me, calling me his wife into the camera.

I turned off my phone. Washed my face. Dried it with a tissue, and put on a fresh mask. As I walked out, passing the delivery room door, I heard Maya talking to Henry inside. The door wasnt fully closed, and voices leaked out. Honey, look, he looks just like you.

Mhm, the nose is similar.

Kiss him.

Henry let out a soft laugh. I stood outside the door for two seconds. Then I walked away.

I finished my last two hours on shift. Changed out of my scrubs, picked up my bag, and walked out of the hospital entrance. 8:17 PM. I didnt take a cab back to my fellowship dorm. I hailed a cab and went to Emerald Lakes. Building 14, Apartment 1602. My apartment.

The elevator reached the 16th floor. I walked to apartment 1602. The door had a pink cartoon bear sticker, proclaiming Happy Home. I pulled out my key from my bag. The apartment was mine. The lock hadnt been changed. The key slid in, a turn. The door opened.