Chapter 10 - The Final Piece of the Puzzle
I was halfway down a row of sweet corn when my phone started buzzing in my jeans. Dr. Evans. The name on the caller ID made my blood run cold despite the blistering late-summer sun beating down on my shoulders. I wiped the dirt and sweat from my hands onto my denim overalls, taking a deep breath before hitting accept.
"Hello, Sarah speaking," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Sarah, hi. This is Dr. Evans from the Oakridge Fertility Clinic," the voice on the other end replied, professional but carrying a hint of confusion. "I’m calling regarding the recent authorization on the account. We received a notification that the payment method for the upcoming IVF cycle was frozen. I need to speak with you or Mark about the outstanding balance before Mia’s next appointment."
Mia.
Hearing her name spoken aloud by a medical professional felt like a physical blow to my chest. Mark had always told me Mia was just a new junior associate at his accounting firm. But the discovery I had made two nights ago—a hidden email folder left open on his iPad—had painted a very different picture. I had found receipts for jewelry, intimate dinner reservations, and finally, the itinerary for the "family vacation" he was currently on. It wasn't just his mother and sister joining him at that luxury resort in Aspen. Mia was there, too.
But IVF? That was a new, agonizing layer to the betrayal. For three years, Mark had told me he wasn't ready for another child, watching me cry every month when another pregnancy test came back negative.
"Sarah? Are you still there?" Dr. Evans asked.
"Yes, Doctor," I replied, my voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register. "There has been a mistake. I am not authorizing any payments for Mia's treatments, nor will I ever. You will need to contact Mark directly. But I suggest you get a retainer upfront."
May you like
I hung up the phone and stood in the absolute quiet of the cornfield. The rustling of the green stalks in the wind was the only sound. Mark had laughed at me this morning. He had mocked my parents' farm, mocked my work ethic, and driven off to spend my inheritance on his mistress's fertility treatments under the guise of a trip with his toxic mother and sister.
He had no idea what was coming. I slipped the phone back into my pocket, grabbed my basket, and went back to harvesting. Hard work was good for me, after all. It kept my mind perfectly clear for revenge.
