Part 2: The Truth on the Screen
The clinic smelled faintly of antiseptic alcohol, baby powder, and the suppressed fear of young mothers.
Dr. Salinas greeted me with a gentle voice.
“Are you here alone?”
I nodded.
“My husband says this baby isn’t his.”
The doctor didn’t look surprised.
She didn’t judge me either.
She simply asked me to lie down.
The cold gel touched my belly, making me shiver slightly.
The screen lit up.
I held my breath.
At first, there was only a blurry shadow.
Then a tiny dot appeared.
Then that sound filled the room.
A heartbeat.
Strong.
Rapid.
Alive.
I covered my mouth with my hand, and tears immediately spilled down my face.
“Hello, my love,” I whispered.
Dr. Salinas smiled faintly.
But that smile disappeared quickly.
She moved the probe in another direction.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
She enlarged the image on the screen.
Then she checked the date of my last period again.
After that, she looked at my medical file one more time.
“Mrs. Laura…” Her voice slowed. “When exactly did you say your husband had his vasectomy?”
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
“Two months ago.”
The doctor didn’t answer right away.
She pulled the screen closer.
The heartbeat was still sounding steadily.
But there was something else on the screen.
Something that made the doctor keep the probe completely still, her expression turning entirely serious.
“What’s wrong?” I tried to sit up, my heart pounding. “Is my baby okay?”
The doctor lowered her voice.
“The baby is fine. But I need you to listen to me calmly.”
At that exact moment, the door to the examination room was suddenly pushed open.
Diego walked in without permission.
Paula followed right behind him.
“Perfect,” Diego said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now the doctor can finally tell me exactly how many weeks along another man’s child is.”
Dr. Salinas slowly turned her head to look at him.
She looked at Diego.
Then at Paula.
Then her eyes returned to the ultrasound screen.
Her voice rang out calm, but cold and sharp:
“Mr. Diego, before you continue insulting your wife… you need to take a very close look at what is appearing right here.”
Diego’s sarcastic smirk didn’t even have time to fade before Dr. Salinas turned the monitor slightly toward him.
Paula stepped up beside him, crossing her arms with an air of smug superiority, as if she were inspecting a piece of faulty merchandise at a store.
“Mr. Diego,” Dr. Salinas said, her voice cutting through the clinical silence like a scalpel. “You mentioned a vasectomy two months ago. Am I correct?”
“Yes,” Diego scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And unless medical science has found a way for immaculate conception, that child is not mine. So let’s not waste time playing games.”
Dr. Salinas pointed a sterile plastic stylus at the glowing grayscale monitor.
“Look closer, Mr. Diego. Not at the baby’s heartbeat—though it is remarkably strong. Look at the gestational age marker. According to the measurements, growth patterns, and crown-rump length, this pregnancy is currently at fourteen weeks.”
The air in the room seemed to freeze instantly.
Diego’s smug expression stuttered. His eyes darted from the doctor’s face to the numbers on the screen.
“Fourteen… fourteen weeks?” Diego stammered, the color draining rapidly from his cheeks. “That’s… that’s impossible. We only had the surgery two months ago! That means…”
“That means,” Dr. Salinas interrupted coldly, “this conception took place roughly three and a half months ago. Which was a full month before you underwent your vasectomy procedure.”
I sat up slowly on the examination table, pulling my dress down, and looked straight into Diego’s wide, terror-stricken eyes.
“And for the record, Diego,” I said, my voice steady and icy, “my last cycle before we conceived was right around our wedding anniversary. When you were supposedly away on that ‘business trip’ to Chicago with Paula.”
Paula’s jaw dropped. She turned sharply toward Diego, her face turning from pale to a furious, blotchy red.
“Diego? What is she talking about? You told me you hadn't touched her in months!” Paula shrieked, her voice cracking in pure panic. “You said she was already a stranger to you!”
Diego stumbled backward, bumping against the metal tray of instruments, nearly sending it crashing to the floor.
“Paula, wait, let me explain—it’s not what you think—!”
“You lied to me!” Paula screamed, lunging forward to slap his arm before storming out of the clinic in a fit of rage, slamming the glass door so hard the walls vibrated.
Diego stood frozen in the middle of the room, looking like a man who had just realized he stepped off the edge of a cliff. He slowly turned his head back toward me, his hands trembling as he reached out.
“Laura… Lora, please… I was confused. My mother got into my head, Paula manipulated me… we can fix this. We’re a family—”
I slid off the examination table, grabbed my bag, and walked past him without even slowing down.
“Keep the divorce papers, Diego,” I whispered coldly as I passed. “Only this time, I’ll be the one rewriting the terms.”
