When he found out the truth, my husband, who had sent me a cake to announce our divorce, came crawling back.
One afternoon, Emma is working at her desk when she gets an unexpected delivery. When she opens the present, she finds the pregnancy test she forgot to hide and a cake with a sinister inscription on it. Will she go home and tell her husband the truth, or will she let him walk away?
Half-daydreaming about what to make for dinner at my desk and half-typing an email, the workplace delivery guy appeared at my office door. He was holding a bright pink bakery box and grinning from ear to ear, as if he knew some inside joke that I didn’t know about.
With much enthusiasm, he said, “Good afternoon, Emma!” “This is yours!”
I blinked and said, “Thank you, Nico,” as he passed the box to me.
I had given no orders at all. Birthdays and work parties were not planned. So who would send a cake, and to whom? My stomach lurched with curiosity. My husband, Jake, was the head baker at a fancy bakery in town. Maybe this was just a little something he did.
The workplace was buzzing with the usual excitement, with phones ringing, keyboards clacking, and people laughing in the break room, as everyone was excited to go for the day. But at that time, all else disappeared from view. Lifting the lid, I carefully unfastened the ribbon and froze.
On top of the cake, in black frosting, were four words that made my fury boil: I’m ending our marriage.
I looked at the words and blinked a little in disbelief. But there was more to come!
Neato tastefully placed on the cake beside the incriminating text was a positive pregnancy test.
My heart dropped to my stomach.
Jake found it. He found the pregnancy test I had thrown in the bathroom trash this morning; it was the exact test I was supposed to pick up and take with me so I could easily hide it from Jake.
Unfortunately, I was rushing late and had forgotten. Right now? Was this how Jake felt about the cake? disconnection. a cake with a humorous message on it.
I gripped the edge of my desk, trying to steady myself. I was on the verge of experiencing a panic attack. This wasn’t some awful practical joke. Jake thought I had abandoned him.
Why did he send this, if not?
I closed the box, my mind racing.
Jake had been told he was sterile years before. And he believed this child was not ever going to be his. He thought I had abandoned him and betrayed him after everything we had been through together.
But what’s the reality?
The truth was far more complicated.
I hadn’t told lies. Of course not. All I had done was hang around with Jake. Yes, I had given the pregnancy test to him, but I hadn’t told him yet since I needed the doctor’s clearance.
As Jake and I had gone through so much grief during our unsuccessful pregnancy, I really couldn’t stand to think that I would raise his hopes only to have them shattered.
I remembered our talk from three years ago:
I said, “I think we should just stop trying for a while,” as I sat on our bed.
“Em, what do you mean?” Jake asked. “Quickly, give up trying?”
“Jake, we have been trying for a kid for the past eighteen months. I believe that our bodies need a minute to unwind.
Do you mean my body, he asked? “Looks like I’m the problem. We’ve heard from the doctors that I’m to blame. It is my offspring. Therefore, yes. Let’s wrap up now.
Jake and I struggled to rebuild our relationship as a solid partnership after that. Without the stress of attempting to conceive a child, we could hardly stand each other.
But my spouse now thought the worst of me.
I quickly gathered my things, grabbed the box, and left the office, causing my coworkers to cast worrisome looks in my direction. I was too preoccupied to continue. All I could think about was going back home, seeing Jake, and being honest with him.
As soon as I walked through the front door, I noticed him. Jake was pacing the living room back and forth, his face flushed and his body rigid with wrath.
He turned, his eyes burning, as soon as I stepped inside.
“Tell me the test wasn’t yours,” he exclaimed.
I put the cake box down carefully on the kitchen counter and stood very still in front of him.
“That’s mine, honey,” I declared.
Jake’s expression didn’t change. He seemed even more angry, like he was going to lose it.
“I won’t stop you if you want a divorce,” I continued. “But there’s something you should know before you leave us.”
He balled his hands at his sides into fists.
Emma, how in the world could you say anything? I thought you were falling for me. But now look at you, having a child by someone else.
Jake, pay attention to me! I ended the conversation. “This baby is yours. You’re going to become a dad.
The words hung in midair.
When Jake stopped pacing, his scowl got bigger. For a moment, he just stared at me, as though he was trying to process what I had said. Then he shook his head, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Not at all. That is not feasible. Emma, I’m not fertile. That is what the physicians said. We’ve been talking about this for years.
“Darling, it seems the physicians were mistaken,” I said, advancing nearer him. “I saw Dr. Harper this morning after completing the test. I didn’t want you to see the test results before I spoke with her because false positives are often. She explained everything to me in detail.
My husband was staring at me, confused, but he held his tongue this time. I inhaled deeply, knowing that this was the proper time to tell him everything, even though I wasn’t sure if he would believe me.
“Jake,” I said at first. “Your infertility never completely vanished. You have had oligospermia, Dr. Harper has informed me. It means that even though you didn’t have a lot of sperm, you were still able to have children. Dr. Harper believes that the stress of trying and failing to conceive over an extended period of time may have made matters worse.
Jake just stared at me, unable to say anything.
“You were never totally incapable of becoming a parent, baby.
My husband’s mouth quirked, but he said nothing. Resuming his seat in the armchair, he studied what I had said.
I watched the anger evaporate from his face and be replaced by a look of complete disbelief. The realization made his shoulders shiver, and he buried his head in his hands.
“Oh my God, Emma,” he exclaimed, sounding quite moved. “I think you cheated on me.” Since I couldn’t, I figured you had moved on to someone else. I thought I would never be able to satisfy your needs.
His words trailed off and became somber.
The man I had loved for years, the one who had stuck by me through everything, was there in front of me. I watched him embrace the person he was.
I stood there watching him fall apart, unable to express the anguish in my own heart. I came to the realization that we had reason for gratitude with this new chapter in our lives.
I mean, I was finally pregnant after years of trying. I was delighted by this. But I was insulted that Jake had delivered that awful cake without even asking my permission, assuming the worst.
Still, I also understood. I knew the years of uncertainty and pain that we had both had in trying to become pregnant.
“I’m so sorry,” Jake whispered after a while. “I apologize; I really thought.”
I remained where I was. I just sat there and let him cry as he attempted to figure out what was going on. He apologized several times, sounding regretful in every word. He’d been ready to give up and call it quits due to miscommunication and personal issues.
But at this point, he knew the truth.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said. “I don’t deserve this chance. But I assure you that I will make it up to you each and every day. I promise. I’ll make an excellent dad. I’ll be the perfect partner.
There was a lump in my throat. This wasn’t how I had intended to tell him. I’d visualized the moment when we would finally get the news we’d been waiting for. I had pictured him crying with delight and ecstasy. Not like this, though. not like this disarray.
However, I realized that despite everything, we had been given the one thing we had given up hope for as I stood there, starring at my seemingly broken husband.
a young person.
an approaching time frame.
We’ll work things out, I murmured, my voice faltering. And for the first time in a very long time, I saw hope in Jake’s eyes. This time, I gave in to my husband’s reach for me. We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of a growing child and a pregnant mother on our shoulders.
In the scenario, how would you have handled things?
