Chapter 4 - THE CHILD I NEVER KNEW
I woke Gwen before sunrise.
“Come with me.”
She blinked in confusion.
“Where?”
“Outside.”
She immediately looked toward the door.
“They’ll hear.”
“Then we’ll whisper.”
I took her to my truck.
We sat inside with the doors locked.
The street was quiet.
I didn’t start the engine.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Finally I asked,
“What baby?”
Gwen stopped breathing.
That was all the answer I needed.
“Oh God.”
“David…”
“What baby?”
She covered her face.
I had seen soldiers break down.
I had watched grown men cry after phone calls from home.
But watching my wife fold into herself like that tore something open inside me.
“You were pregnant?”
She nodded.
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
My voice came out rough.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I did!”
Her voice cracked.
She looked at me with tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I called. I emailed. I wrote letters. I sent messages. Margaret told me you knew.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She said you were under too much pressure. She said your commander contacted her and told her family problems were distracting you.”
“That never happened.”
“I know that now.”
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“What happened to the baby?”
Gwen stared through the windshield.
“I lost her.”
Her.
A daughter.
A daughter I never knew existed.
My ears rang.
“How far along?”
“Five months.”
I shut my eyes.
Five months.
There had been a life.
A little girl.
Mine.
Ours.
Gone.
And I hadn’t even known to grieve.
“I was sick,” Gwen continued. “The pregnancy was complicated. Then after the miscarriage, they found something else.”
She reached for her hat.
Slowly, she pulled it off.
Most of her hair was gone.
Short patches were beginning to grow back.
I couldn’t speak.
“Cancer,” she whispered. “Lymphoma.”
My whole body went cold.
“They caught it early. The doctors said my chances were good. I started treatment.”
I touched her face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried!”
She struck the dashboard with her palm.
“I tried until they convinced me that telling you might get you killed.”
“Who?”
She stared at the house.
“Your mother.”
I looked toward the upstairs windows.
Gwen’s voice dropped.
“When I got sick, I needed help. Margaret moved in. Then Paige came.”
She swallowed hard.
“At first they were kind.”
“What changed?”
“The money.”
I looked at her.
“What about it?”
“They realized how much you were sending.”
She started shaking.
“And then Margaret told me something that made me afraid to leave.”
“What?”
Gwen turned to me.
“She said you weren’t coming home to me.”
Before I could answer, the front porch light snapped on.
Margaret stood in the doorway.
Watching us.
May you like
And in her hand was Gwen’s phone.
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