May the Rest of My Life Be Peaceful

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I was packing my husband's bags when I found a prenatal exam report.

The name in the family-signature box was Frederick Gilbert, and the pregnant woman was my best friend, the one who'd always said she couldn't have children.

I stood there holding the paper, hands and feet gone cold.

Frederick Gilbert was my husband. Geraldine Fox was my closest friend.

My head went blank, and I rushed off in a panic to find my mother.

She was in the kitchen simmering chicken soup, and she spoke without even lifting her head.

"Josie, honey, the baby's position in Gerry's belly was never stable to begin with. Just settle down, don't go making a fuss, all right?"

"Frederick only had us all keep it from you because he wanted to give the Gilberts an heir."

Beside her, my own brother was washing vegetables, and he cut in with a grin.

"Sis, Gerry already agreed. Once the baby's born, it goes straight to you to raise."

"You two have been close for so many years. Just cut her some slack."

I looked at those two familiar faces and felt the nausea rise in my stomach.

So my own mother and my own brother had both been helping an outsider scheme against my marriage.

In this lie everyone had so carefully woven together,

I was the only fool.

...

My mother turned off the burner, turned to face me, and there was actually a flicker of impatience on her face.

"Josie, put the report away first. Don't let Frederick see it when he gets back. He's been worn out enough lately over Gerry's situation."

Worn out enough.

I almost laughed.

He got my best friend pregnant, and he's the tired one.

I found out my husband and my best friend had been lying to me, and somehow I was the one being unreasonable.

"Mom, exactly how long have you and Howard Swanson been helping him keep this from me?"

She avoided my eyes and ladled out soup.

"Not that long. When Gerry first got pregnant things weren't good, and Frederick was afraid the shock would be too much for you, so he sent her abroad to carry the baby without telling you. It's only now, with the birth so close, that he brought her back."

Sent her abroad to carry the baby?

Those words left my mind reeling.

The whole past half year came flooding back.

No wonder Frederick had been finding an excuse to fly overseas on business every few days.

No wonder Geraldine's posts back then were always some peaceful, pretty foreign scenery.

And I'd actually felt sorry for how hard he was working, and stupidly bought a pile of health supplements to ship over to Geraldine, wishing her a speedy recovery.

Thinking about it now, it was almost funny.

The man who shared my bed and my best friend, living the good life abroad.

My mother and my brother taking the favors Frederick handed out, joining forces to make a fool of me.

"Afraid I'd take it hard, so all of you helped him hide it from me?"

Howard held out the apple in his hand, that same infuriating little smile still on his face.

"Sis, don't put it so ugly. Look how good Frederick's been to you. When have you ever gone without a house, a car, anything? Gerry's health being what it is, she finally managed to conceive. Everybody just wanted to protect the baby first."

I slapped the apple out of his hand, and his face changed.

"What are you losing your mind at me for? I'm not the one who got Gerry pregnant."

My mother frowned.

"Josephine Swanson, who is this act for? A woman making a life, you can't go picking a fight over every little thing. A man like Frederick, do you know how many women out there have their eyes on him? You get to sit securely as Mrs. Gilbert, and you still want more?"

I stared at her.

She was my mother.

The year I lost my baby, she held me and cried, said the first person she'd never forgive was anyone who ever let me suffer.

Now she was simmering soup for the very man who was making me suffer.

My phone rang then. Frederick.

I didn't answer.

Howard glanced at the screen and instantly got frantic.

"Sis, don't make trouble. If Frederick's calling it must be something important. Gerry has a checkup today. If she's affected because you're in a bad mood, can you take responsibility for that?"

I turned my head toward him, slowly.

"She's carrying my husband's child, and you want me to take responsibility for her?"

Howard stalled, his ears going a little red, but he stiffened his neck fast enough.

"The baby goes to you to raise later, doesn't it? Haven't you always wanted a child? Isn't that the best of both worlds?"

I raised my hand and slapped him.

The kitchen went dead quiet.

Howard clutched his face, eyes wide.

My mother shrieked and rushed over to shove me.

"Are you insane? Howard means well for you too."

Her push sent me into the corner of the dining table, and a sharp pain shot through my lower belly.

I pressed a hand to it and needed a few seconds before I could straighten up.

Frederick's call came again.

This time I answered.

It was quiet on his end, his voice as steady as always.

"Josephine, where are you?"

"At my mom's."

"You saw the exam report?"

He didn't panic. He didn't explain.

I heard my own nail scrape across the paper, a faint sound.

"Frederick, do you think I'm that easy to fool?"

The line went silent for two seconds.

"I'm coming over now. Don't fight with Mom first. Geraldine's fetal heartbeat isn't very steady today, the doctor advised her to stay calm."

I closed my eyes for a moment.

"So you called because you're afraid I'll go upset her?"

"Josephine, she's far along. Any accident could mean real trouble."

"And what about me?"

He was silent.

That silence was dirtier than the exam report.

Half an hour later, Frederick arrived.

He wore a dark gray coat, cuffs clean, expression composed, and in his hand was the chestnut cake I always liked.

He looked at me first as he came in, then at my mother.

"Mom, thank you for all this."

My mother hurried to take the things from his hands.

"You're the one who's had it hard. How are things with Gerry?"

Standing off to the side, I suddenly felt completely unnecessary.

Frederick walked up to me and set the cake on the table.

"Your stomach's bad. Eat something first."

I smacked the exam report against his chest.

"Is the baby yours?"

He caught the paper, not the slightest flinch in his eyes.

"Yes."

I looked at Frederick's handsome face, that face without a single crack in it.

"When did it start?"

He lowered his eyes, and a long moment passed.

"After your first miscarriage."

There was only that pain twisting through my chest, wave after wave.

Frederick reached out to steady me. I stepped away from him.

"Josephine, come home with me first. We'll talk."

"Now you want to talk?"

"I'll handle this. On Geraldine's side, once the baby is born it can be registered under your name, and the Gilbert elders will recognize you as the mother. You won't lose anything."

I stared at him, and then I laughed.

"Frederick, do you really not know what I've lost?"

Something in his brow finally moved.

Howard muttered under his breath beside us.

"Frederick's already giving you plenty of face."

Frederick's eyes cut toward him, and Howard shut his mouth at once.

He was always like this.

One look and he could hold down a whole room of outsiders. Dignified, composed, cleaning up every mess.

And the worst mess of all, he'd handed to me with his own hands.

I went home with him.

On the drive back, he thoughtfully opened the car door for me, fastened my seatbelt.

I looked at the sapphire cufflinks at his wrist.

The anniversary gift I'd given him last year.

At the time I'd said, so stupidly, that wearing them out meant he had to remember me.

Thinking about it now, I wanted to slap the girl I'd been.

Halfway home, he took a call from Geraldine.

The speaker wasn't on, but the car was too quiet, and I heard her crying.

"Frederick, does Josephine know? Is she going to hate me? I'm really scared."

Frederick's hands tightened on the wheel.

"Don't cry. The doctor said you can't get worked up."

He glanced at me. Before he hung up, he added one more thing.

"I'll come by later."

I turned to look out the window.

So five years of marriage couldn't outweigh one word of fear from her.

When the car pulled into the garage, Frederick didn't get out right away.

"Josephine, this pregnancy is hard on Geraldine. She was there for you through the worst days back then, and you know her health isn't good."

I unbuckled my seatbelt.

"When she was crying with me, the two of you were already sleeping together. Isn't that right?"

His face finally darkened.

"Don't humiliate yourself with talk like that."

I laughed so hard my shoulders shook.

"You two do it, but the moment I say it out loud, I'm humiliating myself."

He reached over and held the car door shut.

"Josephine, I'll make it up to you."

I looked at him.

"That first night, when you didn't rush to the hospital, was that what you were thinking then too?"

Frederick's hand slid off the door. He didn't speak.

He didn't need to answer. I already knew.

Four years ago, I lost my first baby.

It was pouring that night. The pain had me crouched in the entryway, and I called Frederick seven times before he picked up.

"Josephine, I'm out of town, I can't make it back. Call a car and get to the hospital first. I'll have my assistant reach the doctor."

Back then I was still making excuses for him.

The Gilbert family had so much going on, he was busy, he couldn't come.

Later, the woman next door took me to the hospital.

After I lost the baby, Geraldine held me and cried until she nearly fainted.

Over and over she said her heart broke for me, soothing me in that gentle voice, telling me that as long as I still had Frederick's love, I would surely get through it.

I even patted her back, comforting her instead.

Now Frederick had told me himself that the two of them started right after that.

Only now did I understand how sickening those tears had been.

Back home, he took off his coat and hung it up, then went to the kitchen to pour warm water.

He never lost control. Even having just admitted to the affair, every move was still elegant enough that you couldn't find fault with it.

"Drink some water. Your lips are pale."

I didn't take it.

He set the cup on the coffee table.

"That night, Geraldine had slit her wrists at the hospital. It was serious."

My hand trembled.

"She'd found out she might never be able to conceive, and she fell apart. When I got there, her hands were covered in blood. Josephine, I thought you just had a stomachache."

"Just a stomachache?"

I swept the cup off the coffee table. Water splashed onto the hem of his trousers. He didn't move.

"Frederick, my baby died that night. And you're telling me you thought it was just a stomachache?"

His throat moved.

"By the time I got to the hospital, your surgery was already done."

"By the time you got there, Geraldine had come along too. She held me and cried, said her heart broke for me. You stood in the doorway and told her not to cry herself sick."

I remembered it too clearly.

Geraldine was a sobbing mess, and Frederick handed the tissues to her first.

Back then I only thought he was taking care of a friend.

Only now did I understand that the one who looked most like an outsider in that room was me.

Frederick bent to pick up the broken glass. A shard caught his finger, and a bead of blood welled up.

I watched, cold.

There was a time when the smallest scrape on his hand would send me digging through the medicine box.

Now that little bit of blood meant nothing to me.

He tossed the shards away and pressed a tissue to the cut.

"Josephine, I admit I was wrong. But it's already happened, and the baby is almost due. If you divorce now, you'll only make things awkward for everyone."

I stood up.

"You're afraid of things being awkward?"

"I'm afraid you'll regret it later."

He made me laugh out of sheer anger.

"Frederick, how dare you regret things on my behalf?"

He lifted his eyes to me, exhaustion pressing beneath them.

"You've loved me for so many years. I don't believe you can let go just like that."

Impressive. Killing someone and still choosing the softest spot to drive the knife in.

For our fifth anniversary dinner, I sat alone for two hours.

The dress was the one he liked, the earrings were ones he'd given me.

Only once I sat down did I realize how ridiculous I was.

I knew everything, and I still showed up.

At seven twenty, his message popped up.

Geraldine's having abdominal pain, I'm at the hospital. Go ahead and eat.

The waiter brought out the anniversary cake, the card reading: Happy fifth anniversary to Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert.

I turned the card face down, paid the bill, and took a cab to the hospital.

The ward door wasn't shut all the way.

Frederick was half-kneeling by the bed, tucking a blanket over Geraldine.

Geraldine gripped his hand, her eyes rimmed red.

"Frederick, what if Josephine won't forgive me? I'm really afraid she won't want me as a friend anymore."

Frederick's voice dropped very low.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here."

Standing in the doorway, I suddenly remembered how, four years ago, when I woke up after surgery, I had wanted to hear him say those very words.

But that day he only said, wearily: "The doctor said you need to rest. Don't let your mind run wild."

Geraldine saw me first.

The color drained clean from her face, and she struggled to sit up.

"Josephine, I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry!"

"At first I only wanted to treat my condition. Frederick came with me for the exams, for the follow-ups. He said your health wasn't good either, that he was afraid you'd be hurt if you found out. I really never meant to steal what was yours."

"What was mine?"

I looked at that hand of hers, still clutching Frederick's sleeve.

"Geraldine, Frederick is my husband, not some coat you can borrow whenever you like."

She cried harder.

"I know I was wrong, but the baby is innocent. Josephine, you love children so much. For the sake of all these years between us, could you not hurt him?"

I was so angry I'd gone numb.

"When the two of you were sleeping together, did you spare a thought for whether I was innocent?"

Frederick moved in front of the bed.

"Josephine, don't make a scene at the hospital."

He blocked me so naturally, carefully shielding her.

Watching him do it, a wave of nausea rose in my stomach.

"Frederick, four years ago I came out of the operating room and you stood by her side handing her tissues. Four years later, you're still standing by her bed."

"Your place never changed. I'm the one who kept getting it wrong."

Once the words were out, he said nothing more.

The drive home was so quiet it pressed down on me.

Frederick parked the car below the building but left the engine running.

"After the baby's born, can you help me take care of it for a while?"

I thought I'd misheard.

He rested his hands on the steering wheel.

"Geraldine might not hold up well after the birth, and the Gilbert family needs a mother who's recognized. You're more suited to it than she is."

I turned my head to look at him, slowly.

"Frederick, do you see me as your wife, or as a tool to clean up after the two of you?"

Anger surfaced in his eyes.

"Do you have to make your situation sound so pathetic? You're Mrs. Gilbert, with more money than you could spend in a lifetime. When have I ever shortchanged you?"

I pushed open the car door.

"You put a diamond collar on a dog, then kick over its food bowl, and the dog's supposed to kneel down and be grateful?"

He got out and came after me, gripping my wrist.

"Josephine, don't throw away a good thing when you've got it!"

I shook him off.

"Get your filthy hands off me. You make me sick."

His hand froze in midair.

Before the elevator doors closed, I saw him standing there, his face gone ice cold.

But I wasn't afraid of him anymore, not even a little.

I was only afraid that if I looked at him one more time, I'd remember the Frederick who used to tuck my hands into his coat pockets in winter.

My mother came to the apartment on the third day.

She was carrying a thermal container, and her first words through the door weren't to ask if I'd slept well.

"Gerry hasn't been able to eat these past two days, so I made some soup. You're close to the hospital here, so I dropped it off on the way. Have the driver take it over in a bit."

I pushed the container back at her.

"Take it yourself."

My mother's face fell.

"Josie, don't be so petty. Gerry's pregnant, she's got a craving for soup I made. How can I not look after her?"

"Is her own mother dead?"

My mother flared up.

"Josephine, how can you say something so vicious? Gerry's been a good girl since she was little, and she hasn't had it easy either. Now you're living comfortably as a rich man's wife. What more could you want?"

I stared at the jade bracelet on her wrist.

It was the birthday present Frederick had given her last year, the one she'd shown off in front of the relatives for so long.

"Mom, are you afraid that if I get divorced, you won't be able to wear the jewelry Frederick gave you and play the grand lady in front of the relatives anymore?"

Her face turned ugly, but she wouldn't back down.

"Isn't this all for you? If you divorce, how's a woman like you supposed to get by? Your body's the way it is. What if you can never get pregnant again? Who's going to truly want you then?"

That line caught me completely off guard.

I thought I'd been hurt enough already. It turned out my own mother knew best where to twist the knife.

Howard came by in the evening, carrying fruit, and dropped onto the couch the second he walked in.

"Sis, Mom said you looked really bad today."

I ignored him.

He rubbed his hands together.

"Sis, can't we be realistic about this? A man with Frederick's kind of standing, where are you going to find that again if you divorce? Besides, he never said he didn't want you. He's even letting you raise the kid, so your position in the Gilbert family will only get more solid."

"Howard, are you afraid I'll lose my position, or afraid you'll lose your brother-in-law backing you up?"

His face flushed red.

"Don't think I'm that bad. Frederick set me up with a job and gave me some face, and that was for your sake too. If the two of you really fall out, what am I supposed to do after that?"

I laughed out loud. This time it was a real laugh.

"So you've finally told the truth."

Humiliated into a rage, he stood up.

"Josephine, don't be so precious about it. What rich man doesn't fool around a little? Frederick's willing to give you the kid, that's already plenty of respect for you."

I picked up the water glass on the table and threw the water in his face.

"Get out."

Howard wiped his face and, furious, kicked the coffee table.

"Fine, keep making a scene, and see who can't take it in the end. When Frederick gets sick of you and Gerry moves in with the kid, you won't even have a place to cry."

He slammed the door on his way out.

Frederick came home that night.

He set a document down in front of me.

"The Gilbert family has talked it over. After the baby's born, it'll be brought back to the Gilbert household. Sign this guardianship consent form, and I'll have someone handle the paperwork."

I opened to the first page. In the space for the guardian, the name Josephine Swanson was already printed.

I looked up at him.

"You even picked out the spot for my signature?"

"Josephine, this is best for everyone."

"How is it best for me?"

He was silent for a moment.

"Haven't you always wanted to be a mother?"

I threw the document in his face, the pages scattering across the floor.

"Wanting to be a mother doesn't mean I want to raise the bastard you had with Geraldine."

Frederick bent down and picked up the papers, his movements still unhurried.

The more composed he was, the more I wanted to tear that calm right off his face.

"Josephine, you're not in a stable state right now. Once you calm down, you'll see this arrangement is the safest way."

"Safe enough that the two of you sleep together, get pregnant, have the baby, and I still have to smile and carry it home?"

His face went cold.

"Don't put it so crudely."

I walked up to him, one step at a time.

"Frederick, is it the words that are crude, or what the two of you did?"

His phone rang again. Geraldine's name flashed on the screen.

He answered, and she was crying in broken pieces.

"Frederick, my mother came over. She called me shameless, and my stomach hurts a little"

Frederick immediately grabbed his coat.

I stood in the doorway, blocking his path.

"If you dare walk out today, we're getting divorced."

His hand paused on his cufflink.

"Josephine, she's carrying a child."

I pointed at myself.

"I carried one once, too."

He avoided my eyes and went around me, out the door.

The moment it closed, I heard something inside me cave in.

After Frederick slammed the door and left that day, we didn't speak for three whole days.

He never came back. Not one message.

Whatever happened that night, in his eyes it probably wasn't worth remembering.

Saturday afternoon, the driver knocked and handed me a dress box.

"Ma'am, the Gilbert family dinner is tonight."

He watched my face and added, carefully,

"Mr. Gilbert is already waiting in the car downstairs."

I lifted the lid and looked. A dress inside.

Ridiculous.

Frederick really was that arrogant. He was certain the divorce I'd screamed about that night was just a play for his attention.

As long as he gave Mrs. Gilbert her face, I was supposed to shut up, turn the page, and go be a good girl who raised their bastard.

Dream on.

I didn't touch the dress. I threw on an old trench coat and went straight downstairs.

The second I pulled the car door open, a heavy ache dragged low in my belly.

My hand shook. I gripped the door handle and breathed through it.

In the back seat, Frederick was reading something on his tablet.

At the sound he glanced up, his eyes landing on the trench coat, and his brow drew together.

"You're going downstairs dressed like that?"

I didn't answer. I got in, jaw clenched.

His displeasure deepened, and he stabbed the screen dark, annoyed.

"Forget it. The elders are already here. Tonight we just get through it."

He paused, and there was a warning in his voice.

"Rein it in. Don't make a scene at the table. The child's situation has to be settled one way or another."

"Settled meaning I sign for it?"

He looked at me, and his eyes softened a little.

"Josephine, you used to love children. If this child grows up under your name, no one will look down on you."

"Frederick, however far I've fallen, I am not your family's scrap yard."

His brow creased.

"Don't talk about yourself like that."

I laughed.

"You've all treated me like this, and now you want to police how I talk about myself."

He didn't say anything else.

By the time the car reached the Gilbert house, my mother and Howard were already there.

Howard looked a little sheepish when he saw me, but he came over quickly.

"Josie, don't cause trouble today, okay? The Gilbert elders are all here. Leave your brother-in-law some face."

I ignored him.

The table was full.

The Gilbert elders looked at me with such warmth, warmth that turned me cold.

One of the aunts smiled and pulled me down into a seat.

"Josephine, you're a lucky one, really. That woman outside has no manners, she's not fit to enter this family. The moment the baby's born it goes under your name, and someday the child calls you Mom. Isn't that nice?"

Another elder picked it up.

"Two mothers loving one child. That child is blessed."

The teacup nearly cracked in my hand.

Frederick sat beside me and pressed his palm over the back of my hand, the pressure a reminder.

I pulled my hand away.

When the housekeeper helped Geraldine in, the whole room went quiet.

She wore a loose maternity dress, her face pale, her eyes red.

My mother shot up to steady her.

"Gerry, slow down, don't tire yourself."

The moment Geraldine saw me, the tears started falling.

She came to me and gripped my hand.

"Josephine, I really am willing to give you the child. As long as it settles you, I don't want anything."

Her hand was cold, but it held on tight.

The whole table was watching me.

I looked down at her hand.

"You don't want anything, Geraldine? You took Frederick's company. You took the Gilbert child. And now you want my face too."

She cried harder, cupping her belly and backing away.

Frederick was up at once to catch her.

"Josephine, don't provoke her."

I looked at the hand he'd placed at the small of Geraldine's back.

So practiced.

The Gilbert elders' faces had all gone sour.

My mother hissed at me under her breath.

"Do you have to make it this ugly? That's a Gilbert child in her belly. If something happens, can you carry that?"

Howard was frantic too.

"Josie, just sign it. The kid calls you Mom later, what do you lose?"

I picked up the guardianship consent form on the table.

As the pages turned, the line for guardian still read my name.

A sudden calm came over me.

I tore the document apart, one page at a time, the scraps drifting down onto the table.

Frederick's face finally changed.

I slipped off my wedding ring and set it in front of him.

"This child has a father and a mother. It has nothing to do with me. Frederick, we're getting a divorce!"

The whole table erupted.

Frederick stood, his chair scraping the floor with a sound that grated.

"Josephine, the divorce, we'll discuss it once the child is safely born."

I looked at him.

"You'd even make the divorce wait in line behind her due date?"

Geraldine suddenly clutched her belly, her face going white.

"Frederick, it hurts"

He turned almost instantly.

My mother shoved me.

"Are you satisfied? You've upset Gerry into this state."

I wasn't braced for it. My waist slammed into the corner of the table, and a dull pain spread low in my belly.

Frederick scooped Geraldine up and started out. He paused for a second as he passed me.

"Josephine, go home and wait for me."

I held onto the edge of the table, sweat beading on my forehead from the pain.

"Frederick, I'm hurting too."

He gave me one look. It was brief.

"Have the driver take you to the hospital first. I'll send someone over."

Then he carried Geraldine out.

My mother and Howard followed after them.

The whole table was busy making calls, grabbing bags, calling for cars.

No one looked at me anymore.

I walked out of the Gilbert house alone. By the time I reached the door, everything went black.

When I came to, I was lying on a bed in the emergency room.

A nurse rushed in clutching a form.

"Miscarriage from external impact, hemorrhaging, near shock. Where's the family? We need someone to sign, now."

Something roared in my head. I gripped the nurse's arm.

"I... I was pregnant?"

"Nearly eight weeks. You didn't even keep track?"

She glanced at me, and her voice went gentle.

"Don't ask questions. It's dangerous. Let me call your husband first."

She dialed Frederick's number and put it on speaker.

The second it connected, there was chaos on the other end, a doctor shouting to get her into delivery.

The nurse spoke into the phone: "Mr. Gilbert, yes? Your wife took a blow and she's hemorrhaging. She needs surgery immediately. Please come sign right now."

The other end went quiet for a few seconds.

Geraldine was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

"Frederick, I'm scared... you said you'd stay with me, don't go."

I stared at the ceiling, the blood still pouring out of me.

Through the speaker, Frederick's voice came, a little rushed.

"Doctor, I can't get away right now."

The nurse's temper broke: "Mr. Gilbert, your wife is dying. Any longer and it's two lives lost."

Someone on the line shouted that Geraldine was bleeding.

Frederick's breathing went heavy, and his voice hardened.

"Do everything you can to save her. Money's not an issue. Once I finish here... I'll come later."

The call ended. The nurse stood there holding the phone, frozen.

I let go of the sheets I'd been gripping and closed my eyes.

Tears slid from the corners into my hair.

"Nurse, don't call anymore. Take me in."

"I have no family. And I... don't want him anymore."