My husband cheated on me in front of everyone. I «got revenge»! I spent the night with a homeless guy… And got pregnant… But when I went for the abortion, I froze at what I saw….
I was already standing in line at the clinic, holding a ticket with number 37, when I realized that the doctor who was supposed to terminate my pregnancy was the same man I had spent that night with three months ago. He was looking at me from behind the glass partition of the reception desk, and there was no judgment or surprise in his eyes, only calm, as if he had been waiting for this meeting for a long time. But back then, on that October night outside the club «Grand,» I didn’t know that this half-conscious man in a dirty shirt would become the father of my child.
I only knew one thing—my husband John was kissing a twenty-year-old girl right at the corporate party for our beauty salon, not hiding, not ashamed that half our employees could see it. Eight years of marriage crumbled in an instant. Eight years when we built the business together, shared a bed, planned for kids that just wouldn’t come.
John would say, there’s time, Emily, don’t rush. Turns out, he was rushing into the arms of the intern makeup artist. I bolted out of the club without my coat, and the October air hit my face like a slap.
Near the service entrance, a man was lying there. Not old, about thirty-five, all rumpled, drunk, with a split lip. The club’s security guards were standing over him, discussing what to do.
«Got ID, he’s alive, let him sleep it off,» said one. «Just toss him out the gate, why bother,» replied the other. I still don’t understand what came over me.
Maybe in his face I saw the same pain I was feeling. Maybe I just wanted to do something crazy that would hurt John as much as he hurt me. «This is my acquaintance,» I told the guards, «I’ll take him.»
The man could barely stand, but when I took him by the arm, he looked at me with surprisingly clear eyes. «Thanks,» he rasped, «but I’m not…» «Quiet,» I said, «just come on.» We caught a cab.
He gave an address in Brooklyn, a quiet street with old buildings. In the car, he was silent, leaning against the window, and I thought about how I was doing something irreversible. But the idea that John might be looking for me around the club right now pushed me forward.
His apartment turned out to be surprisingly clean for a bachelor. Medical books, a neat kitchen, fresh linens on the bed. He apologized and went to shower, and I stood in the middle of a stranger’s living room, not understanding why I’d come here.
When he came out, clean, in home clothes, with wet hair, I saw a completely different person—tired but handsome. «My name’s Arthur,» he said, «and I don’t understand why you helped me.» I didn’t answer.
Instead, I walked up to him and kissed him. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t take initiative either. He just let me do what I wanted.
We made love slowly, carefully, as if we both understood it was a way to forget pain, not find happiness. In the morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee. Arthur was standing in the kitchen, already dressed, reading something on his phone.
On the table were two cups and a plate of sandwiches. «Good morning,» he said, not lifting his eyes. «I don’t know your name.»
A wave of shame washed over me. What had I done? Cheated on my husband with the first guy I met, just because I caught him with a girl? It was absurd, like kindergarten stuff. «Emily,» I answered, grabbing my things, «I need to go.»
«Wait,» he tried to stop me. «Maybe you’ll tell me what happened? Last night you looked…» Nothing happened. I was already slipping on my shoes…
