Page 72 of Absolution

Quietly, Jackie walks back to the sofa, settling in with a kind of cold control that unsettles me. I lower myself into the armchair across from her, waiting. Watching. Dreading.

After her tears dry, she takes a long, deep breath. Then: “I want to have another baby,” she says, her tone smooth, almost casual.

“Huh?” I blink. “You… what?”

“I want to have another child,” she repeats. “Through surrogacy. We can afford it.”

My throat dries out. I nod reflexively. “If that’s what you… want, I mean-”

But I trail off. Because her eyes haven’t moved. Haven’t softened. Her hands are still perfectly still on her lap, as if she’s reciting lines.

Then she smirks.

It’s not a smile I’ve seen before. Not the one that used to undo me, or the one that made our kids feel safe. It’s darker. Sharper. The kind of smile that belongs to someone who’s done breaking.

Her eyes are dead.

“You can’t do that, can you?” she says, her voice almost pitying. “You can’t give me another child.”

“Jackie-”

“Was the vasectomy a mistake?” she asks, her voice suddenly loud in the silence. “Or was that part of the plan too?”

I freeze.

It feels like the world has narrowed into this one moment. Her face. Her voice. My shame. I try to speak. Nothing comes out.

“Jackie…” Her name catches in my throat.

She leans back into the sofa; arms crossed like a wall. “When did you get it done?”

I look down at my hands. “A year ago.”

Her laugh is bitter. “So, right around the time you started having those business trips.”

“It wasn’t a plan,” I say quickly. “It wasn’t meant to hurt you or end anything. I wasn’t thinking about the future like that. It was just… I was protecting us.”

Jackie lets out a laugh so sharp it could cut glass. “Well then,thank you, Kyle. Thank you for making sure none of your whores ended up with your bastard.”

I flinch. “I-”

She holds up a hand, eyes blazing. “Don’t. Just don’t. You made a permanent decision aboutourlife without saying a word. You got to cheat and make sure there were no consequences. No messy strings. No accidental families.”

“I didn’t do it forthem,” I choke out. “I did it because you almost died. After the hysterectomy, I… I didn’t want to risk losing you again.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.” she says, her voice rising. “You told yourself what you had to, so you could keep screwingaround without any fear.Youmade a permanent decision aboutourfuture without even thinking aboutus.”

“I’ll reverse it,” I say quickly, grasping for something solid. “I’ll go tomorrow. Hell, I’ll gotonight-”

“You think this is about that?” she snaps. “You think I want another baby with you?”

I go still.

She leans forward, her voice bitter. “This was my way of telling you that nothing you say will change my mind.”

The room tilts slightly, air thick in my lungs. I can’t find my footing.

“I’m not doing this to punish you,” she says, calmer now. Steadier. “But it’s clear neither of us is happy in this marriage.” Her eyes meet mine. “I want a divorce.”

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