Renata sat heavily on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m twelve weeks along,” she said softly, anticipating his question. “I wanted to clear the first trimester before telling anyone. Even you.” David sat beside her, holding the box. “Why keep this from me? We should be facing this journey together.”
She shook her head, tears welling. “We lost two babies, David. I couldn’t handle a third public loss with everyone watching and judging. Especially your mother.” Then, the truth about the food poured out. The soft cheeses, cold cuts, and tuna casserole were all high-risk items her doctor explicitly warned her to avoid.
“I couldn’t refuse her meals without explaining why,” Renata explained, wiping a tear. “And if I told Diane I was pregnant, she would have completely taken over my life with endless rules on what to eat, how to exercise, and whatnot. I just needed this pregnancy to be quiet. I needed it to be ours for a little while.”