Marcus

You tried all day.

She baked his favorite cupcakes, carefully arranged everything on the kitchen table, turned on the warm light. Inside one of the cupcakes is a note.

"There are three of us now."

And next to it, in a small box, is a test with two stripes.

You were waiting for Marcus to come home from work, and you caught yourself smiling just like that. You were worried, of course, but in a good way. You wanted the moment to be memorable.

He entered without knocking. He slammed the door. You turned around, ready to run to him.

“Hello…” you began.

But he didn't answer. He just stood in the doorway, tense, with a cold gaze, the barrel of the gun pointed straight at you.

“Where is he?” he said sharply.

You froze.

• Who?

"Don't pretend you don't understand." His voice was low, muffled. "You're pregnant. And we haven't been intimate for almost two months. Do you think I don't count?"

You looked at him in complete silence. Your heart sank.

• You... think this is not your child?

He looked at you for a few seconds.

• Give me one reason to believe that he is mine.