Chapter 7 - Amber Told Catherine the Part Michael Couldn’t
Amber asked to meet me two weeks later.
I almost refused.
Then I decided I wanted one thing.
Her version without Michael in the room.
We met in the hospital café after Lily’s pediatric checkup.
Amber wore jeans and a gray sweater.
Without the burgundy dress and heels, she looked less like a rival and more like a tired woman who had also made bad decisions.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” she said.
“Good.”
She nodded.
“I believed Michael when he said the marriage was ending.”
“Why?”
“He showed me hotel receipts.”
I frowned.
“What hotel?”
“He stayed at the Langham twice.”
I remembered.
After two major fights, Michael had slept away from home.
Two nights.
Amber saw evidence and built a larger story.
“He told me you had asked for space.”
“I had.”
“He said you were planning formal separation after the baby.”
“I wasn’t.”
Amber looked down.
“I know.”
“How long did you sleep with him?”
“Four months.”
The same answer.
“Did you know I was still wearing my wedding ring?”
“Yes.”
“At that point, what did you tell yourself?”
Amber swallowed.
“That complicated marriages don’t look normal from the outside.”
Honest.
Weak.
Human.
Then she told me the part Michael had not.
At the gala, she had already been preparing to end the affair.
“Why?”
“I saw the nursery photo.”
My skin went cold.
“What photo?”
Michael had opened his camera roll while showing her something from work.
For less than a second, Amber saw our nursery.
Finished.
Pink blanket.
Crib.
My reflection in the mirror.
Very pregnant.
That image contradicted everything Michael had been saying.
“You didn’t look like a woman emotionally gone from the marriage,” Amber said.
Appearances are not proof.
But she started asking questions.
Then my labor messages appeared.
Amber confronted Michael.
He admitted we were not formally separated.
She panicked.
Could not breathe.
Not because of medical danger.
Because she realized she had been sleeping with a married man whose wife was going into labor.
She told him to go to me.
He did.
She came because she did not trust him to tell the truth.
Then once inside the hospital, Michael became obsessed with keeping us apart.
“He told me if you saw me before delivery, your blood pressure could spike.”
I laughed bitterly.
Convenient.
Amber continued.
“I believed that for maybe ten minutes.”
Then Daniel came downstairs.
Told Michael I was in active labor.
Amber said:
“Go.”
Michael said:
“I need to fix this first.”
“What did that mean?”
“He wanted me to leave through the service entrance and promise not to contact either of you.”
My stomach turned.
“He was trying to erase you.”
Amber nodded.
“And preserve himself.”
That was the truth.
Not choosing Amber.
Not choosing me.
Choosing the version of events where he remained in control.
Amber looked at me.
“There’s one more thing.”
I waited.
“He told me you didn’t really want the pregnancy.”
I stared.
“What?”
“He said you were scared and had considered whether becoming parents was a mistake.”
My whole body went cold.
I had been terrified at eight weeks.
I had once told Michael:
I don’t know if I’m ready for any of this.
That was not the same as not wanting Lily.
He had taken one vulnerable sentence and used it to make the affair easier to justify.
Amber saw my face.
“I’m sorry.”
I stood.
Meeting over.
Before leaving, I said:
“You weren’t the only person he lied to.”
Amber looked down.
“No.”
“But you still made choices.”
“I know.”
I walked away.
That evening, Michael came to see Lily.
I waited until she was asleep.
Then I asked:
“Did you tell Amber I didn’t want our baby?”
May you like
Michael’s face changed.
And this time, I knew the answer before he spoke.
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