A Child of Another Story

My phone buzzed with a text from Sheila.

A string of voice messages popped up, her voice cracking with tears.

"Erick, where have you vanished to? I'm freaking out here.

"I was out of line yesterday, I know, but that vase was my favorite, Erick. How could you just break it like that?

"All that stuff I said, it was just messing around. Can't you take a joke? Are our years together really worth less than a prank?"

It was almost laughable.

She did not see the issue with her and Yoel.

No, she was upset because I did not buy her story.

I sent a response without a hint of emotion.

[Sheila, are you seriously clueless about what's wrong between us? Cut the act. It's way too phony.]

No sooner had I hit send than Sheila's call lit up my phone.

"Erick, please don't be like that, I truly realize my mistake."

Her voice was rushed and tearful, dripping with a kind of desperation that made her sound pitiful.

"Can't you just stop being mad at me?"

Then, through the phone, I heard the faintest sound of heavy breathing. My grip on the phone tightened, and I couldn't help but ask, "What's going on over there?"

"It's... it's nothing," she stammered shakily.

Before she could finish, a muffled groan burst through the line.

My head felt like it was about to explode.

I could practically paint the picture in my mind. There she was, apologizing to me, yet her body was betraying her words, lost in the arms of another guy.

My fists clenched until my fingers turned pale. The thought of it was nauseating.

"Is Yoel there with you?" I managed to ask, keeping my voice even.

Panic vibrated through the line, and then Yoel's cocky voice cut in.

"Erick, man, don't sweat it. I'm just here keeping Sheila company for a workout."

He did not bother hiding it, adding, "You're always so tied up with work, never around for her. As her guy friend, I should step in, right?"

Out of nowhere, a sound like glass shattering rang out, followed by Sheila's playful yelp.

"Hey! Easy…l"

Yoel's triumphant laugh followed.

"Erick, the coach is here! I... I need to go. We'll talk later!" Sheila blurted out in a fluster. With that, the line went dead.

The dial tone echoed in my ear, and for the first time, I felt my heart crumble into dust.

I sat frozen on my bed, tears streaming down my face no matter how hard I tried to hold them back.

Time seemed to stop until Joshua's call broke the silence, his voice grave.

"Erick, we've got some answers. Brace yourself."

A chill ran through me, my hand white-knuckled around my phone.

"Sheila had an abortion at a private clinic in Artemis City three years ago. The emergency contact? Signed as Yoel Lewis.

"The day before, you sent Sheila seven thousand and five hundred dollars. The memo said 'urgent family use'."

My vision blurred, a ringing in my ears.

It all came flooding back.

Sheila's tearful call, her mom's heart attack, the desperate need for surgery money.

I scrambled to help, sending the cash without a second thought.

It turned out that 'urgent family use' was code for getting rid of the baby she had with Yoel.

Me? I was just the unwitting hero with an open wallet.

Joshua's voice kept going. "I've dug up some more stuff. I just sent it to your email.

"Erick, are you holding up okay?"

I inhaled deeply, fighting the bitter taste rising in my throat.

"I'm good. Thanks, Joshua."

I ended the call, my hands shaking as I opened my email.

Photo after photo, each one a knife twisting in my heart.

There they were, kissing in front of Lovan Art Hall, embracing by the Sennel Riverbank, laughing amidst the lavender fields of Provalle.

In one snapshot, Yoel's arms were wrapped around Sheila, their fingers intertwined and resting gently on her belly. There was a caption written underneath.

[In memory of our angel who flew away too soon. Next time, we'll keep you safe. We promise.]

The photo was posted just three days after she had gone through with the termination.

That same day, I was out schmoozing at a business dinner, knocking back drinks until I felt like my stomach was on fire, all to get her that painting she would not stop talking about.

What a joke.

I fought back the urge to hurl my computer across the room and instead, I encrypted every last shred of evidence.