Married to His Couch, Not Me

I didn't want to impose on Derek any more than I already had, so I asked him to drop me off at a hotel.

I couldn't tell what time I finally fell asleep. Sometime well past midnight, I drifted off without realizing it.

The next afternoon, a frantic knocking on the door jolted me awake. The second I opened it, a crowd of people pushed their way inside.

"Ms. Reeves, can you tell us why you asked for a divorce at your son's one-month celebration?"

"There are rumors that you were unfaithful during the marriage. Is that true?"

"You've been with Mr. Hargrove since before he made it big, and now you're walking away. Do you feel any guilt at all?"

Camera flashes exploded in my face one after another. Recorders and microphones were shoved so close I could feel them against my skin. Half of them had their phones out, livestreaming, recording video, every single one of them desperate to squeeze some scandal out of me.

The commotion drew more onlookers within minutes, and once they heard what was going on, they stared at me with open contempt.

A female reporter elbowed her way to the front, her tone sharp and accusatory.

"Ms. Reeves, sources close to the family say Mr. Hargrove was sleeping in a separate room during your postpartum recovery. Does that mean the marriage was already falling apart? And the fact that you chose the baby's one-month celebration to file for divorce, was this planned from the start?"

That was when it clicked. Everything I'd done the day before had been recorded and posted online. It had blown up overnight. In the span of a single evening, the entire internet had decided I was the villain.

I didn't even have to guess who was behind it. It could only have been Claire.

I looked at the wall of cameras pointed at my face and spoke calmly. "I have nothing to explain."

That set them off instantly.

"Unbelievable. If I hadn't seen this with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe a woman like this actually existed. She stuck it out through the hard years, and now that the money's rolling in, she wants a divorce?"

"She obviously has another man. She probably couldn't keep it in her pants after the pregnancy, and her husband wasn't enough anymore."

"You know what, that actually makes sense. I feel sorry for the guy. Imagine when that kid grows up and finds out what kind of mother he has. It'll be humiliating."

I was drowning in the noise when my parents arrived with Adam.

He looked nothing like he had the day before. The anger was gone, replaced by something raw and urgent. He pushed through the crowd to reach me, and when he spoke, his voice was low and gentle.

"Lena, are you okay?"

I looked into his eyes, and all I saw there was worry. I shook my head but didn't say anything.

Dad stepped forward, his expression stern. "Lena, your mother and I were up all night trying to make sense of this, and we still can't figure out why you'd do this to Adam. Frankly, we started wondering if maybe you really are involved with someone else.

"So last night we rushed a paternity test. Adam is Lucas's biological father. What possible reason do you have to ask for a divorce?"

He tossed the paternity report on the floor in front of me. I bent down and picked it up.

Mom chimed in, her voice softer but just as insistent. "Lena, Adam saw the livestream of you being ambushed by reporters. He was so worried something would happen to you that he came running.

"His parents tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. He's always thinking about you, every single moment. You can't keep hurting him like this. Please, just be reasonable. Apologize to him and make this right."

But no matter how hard they pleaded, none of it reached me. I held up the paternity report so everyone could see it, and tore it to pieces.