Henry had never felt such confusion. After a morning appointment with his wife Emily—an ultrasound where they first heard their unborn baby’s heartbeat—they returned to their car to find a jarring message written across the dusty rear windshield: “Hope she was worth it.”
Emily froze. Her eyes darted from the message to Henry, then back again. “What is this?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“I have no idea,” Henry said immediately, heart racing. “I swear, I didn’t do anything.”
But the words had already planted doubt. They rode home in silence, Emily clenching her hands, Henry frantically replaying every conversation, every moment in recent weeks. He hadn’t cheated. He hadn’t even looked at anyone else. He was devoted, terrified, excited to become a father.
At home, Emily avoided eye contact. The silence was unbearable. “Please,” Henry finally said, “you know me. You were with me all day. Who would do this?”
“I don’t know, Henry. But someone clearly thinks something happened.”
Over the next few days, their once affectionate home became filled with tension and hushed tears. Emily moved into the guest room. Henry barely slept, haunted by a crime he didn’t commit.
Then, a break. Their neighbor, Marcus, mentioned seeing someone near the car that morning—a petite woman with long brown hair, around their age. “She looked upset,” he said. “Didn’t think much of it.”
Henry’s stomach sank. Claire.
Claire, his sister, had been acting odd lately. She’d been checking in more, asking about the baby, about his relationship, about “if he was really ready.” One conversation came back to him vividly—he had vented to her about his anxiety, saying fatherhood scared him. She’d twisted it.
He drove to her apartment. “Did you write on my car?” he asked without greeting.
She didn’t deny it. “You needed a wake-up call,” she said. “You’re scared of being a dad, and she deserves better than someone with one foot out the door.”
Henry was speechless. “I never said I’d leave. I said I was scared. That’s normal. How could you think this would help?”
Claire looked ashamed. “I thought… if she got mad, maybe you’d both talk. Really talk. I didn’t expect her to move out.”
Henry returned home and told Emily everything. She listened silently, tears forming. “I should have trusted you,” she said. “But it hurt, seeing that. It felt so real.”
“I get it,” Henry said. “But I need you to know I’ve always been here. With you. For this baby. For us.”
Emily stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. “I believe you,” she whispered.
The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. Trust needed rebuilding. But they had one another, and that was more than enough.
And as for the words on the car? They washed away with the next rain, never to return.
