That Changed Everything
The doctor’s office smelled like disinfectant and unfinished truths. Larry sat stiff in the chair, fingers locked together, eyes fixed on the floor like it might confess before Bethany did.
“Doctor,” Larry said slowly, his voice tight, “we haven’t been… together… in over two months.”
The room went quiet.
Bethany’s head snapped toward him.
“What are you saying?” she asked, already defensive.
Larry swallowed. “I’m saying… how is she pregnant?”
The Pregnancy That Didn’t Add Up
The first doctor had smiled politely, nodded knowingly, and spoken with the kind of confidence that shuts down questions instead of answering them.
“These symptoms are common,” she had said. “Nausea. Vomiting. Fatigue. It sounds like early pregnancy.”
Sounds like.
Larry remembered that word clearly now.
Driving to the second clinic, Larry didn’t speak. Bethany stared out the window, her jaw tight, one hand resting dramatically on her stomach. She had been throwing up since Christmas night—after dinner, after drinks, after laughter that felt forced even then.
Larry’s mind raced.
If this baby isn’t mine… whose is it?
And worse—why doesn’t she notice I’m not happy?
The Second Doctor, The Real Test
This clinic was different. Cleaner. Quieter. No familiar faces.
The doctor—professional, calm, detached—didn’t smile too much. She asked questions. Real ones.
“Any missed cycles?”
“No.”
“Bloodwork done?”
“No.”
“Ultrasound?”
“No.”
She paused.
“We’ll do a full checkup,” she said. “No assumptions.”
Bethany shifted uncomfortably.
Minutes felt like hours.
Finally, the doctor returned, holding a file—not looking at Bethany, but at Larry.
“She’s not pregnant.”
The words hit harder than confirmation ever could.
“What?” Larry said.
“There’s no pregnancy,” the doctor continued. “What she experienced was acute gastric distress. Gas, irritation, nausea—possibly triggered by food and alcohol. Vomiting can mimic early pregnancy symptoms, but medically speaking… this wasn’t that.”
Larry leaned back, stunned.
Bethany didn’t speak.
The Lie Beneath the Symptoms
On the drive home, silence roared.
Finally, Larry said quietly, “The first doctor… you knew her.”
Bethany’s fingers tightened around her coat.
“She’s… a friend,” Bethany admitted. “New. She didn’t check properly.”
Larry turned to her. “She assumed.”
Bethany exhaled sharply. “She said maybe.”
Larry shook his head. “You let me believe it was real.”
Bethany’s voice cracked—but only slightly. “I needed to see something.”
“See what?” Larry asked.
Bethany finally looked at him.
“If you’d be happy.”
The car slowed.
“What?”
“I wanted to know,” Bethany said, her tone steady now, rehearsed, “if you’d stay. If you’d smile. If you’d fight for me… if there was a baby.”
Larry stared straight ahead.
“And?” he asked.
Bethany swallowed. “You weren’t happy.”
A Plan Too Carefully Designed
Larry’s hands gripped the steering wheel.
“So this was a test?” he asked. “You scared me, embarrassed me, made me question everything… to test me?”
Bethany’s voice dropped. “I had already told the doctor what to say.”
Larry’s heart sank.
“You planned this.”
“I planned to feel secure,” Bethany snapped. “I planned to see if you’d choose me when things got hard.”
Larry laughed once—dry, hollow. “You forgot one thing.”
Bethany frowned.
“The last two months,” Larry said. “Nothing happened. You knew that.”
Bethany said nothing.
That was the moment Larry realized the truth wasn’t about pregnancy at all.
It was about control.
Where the Story Breaks… But Doesn’t End
That night, Bethany lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying Larry’s face at the clinic—not angry, not relieved.
Disconnected.
Larry sat alone in the living room, phone in his hand, scrolling through messages he hadn’t answered… and one number he hadn’t called yet.
Because if Bethany could fake something this big just to test him—
What else had she already planned?
And who else already knew?
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
And somewhere between suspicion and silence, something far more dangerous was just beginning…