Third trimester Stories

I’m sitting in the lobby; I can see my husband and another man seated at a table behind the glass, talking. A yellow-lined notebook sits in front of the man, a pen lying diagonally across it. A nice pen. And a large manila envelope next to it. My stomach is sick. Why did he call me here? I mean, I know why. He must have hired a PI, which means he knows about me and Jax’s affair, and my world is about to implode. I’m strug...