You Paid for My Funeral in Advance

After I left the hospital, I stood by the curb and called Adrian.

Before dialing, I had already prepared myself for him not to answer.

Since my mother’s funeral, he rarely picked up if my calls had anything to do with money. On the few occasions he did, he only told me to say the number directly, then ended the conversation with one hundred dollars.

This time, the call connected after a single ring.

“What is it?”

There were voices in the background, along with the sound of a band tuning instruments.

I held the small paper bag of medication in my hand and said, “The hospital told me to go home and watch myself. You do not need to come, and you do not need to send money.”

For a moment, the line went quiet.

Then Madeline’s voice came through.

“See? I told you she would change the story. A minute ago, the baby was in danger. Now suddenly you do not need to come. Adrian, she only wanted you to panic.”

I heard Adrian’s breathing change.

Madeline went on, “Wasn’t the baby healthy at the last appointment? How does it become an emergency the second a deposit is involved? If I had not stopped you, you would have sent her money again.”

I tightened my grip on the paper bag.

“Adrian, I am not lying. The doctor said if there is bleeding, abdominal pain, or reduced fetal movement, I need to go straight to the ER. I am only telling you what she said.”

“Enough.” His voice turned cold. “I almost fell for it again.”

“I did not ask for money.”

“You never say you are asking for money.” He sounded angry now. “Nora, this is low, even for you. Using the baby as an excuse.”

I stood outside the hospital for a long time without moving.

By the time I returned to base housing, the sky had gone dark. My phone vibrated.

Adrian Hayes sent you: $100

The note read:

I’m ashamed our child has a liar for a mother.

Tears fell before I could stop them.

The old photo of us was still on the dining table.

In it, Adrian had just completed officer training. His uniform was not yet as sharp as it would become later, and there was no coldness in his smile. He had his arm around my shoulders and pride in his eyes, as if he had finally kept the one thing he wanted most.

Back then, he was not Major Hayes to everyone else.

He was only Adrian.

The Adrian who fought his family for me, who was thrown out and still worked three jobs to save for a ring.

The Adrian who held my hand when he proposed and promised he would make me the happiest officer’s wife in the world.

Everything changed after the night of my mother’s surgery deposit.

From that moment on, he was no longer my lover.

I became the gold digger in his eyes, the liar whose every word had a price, the mistake he refused to admit he had once loved.

I turned the photo face down on the table.

The medication sat on my nightstand.

I sat on the edge of the bed and placed my hand over my belly.

“Just wait a little longer, baby.”

Outside the window, cars passed somewhere beyond the base housing road. One by one, lights came on across the neighborhood, as if everyone else had somewhere to return to.

Only I knew there was no one left waiting for me in this house.