“We need to test him,” Megan decided. “Set a trap, make him expose himself. Only then will we understand the full scale of this and be able to make the right decision.”
Susan agreed. They decided to act in sync: they would both text Mike the same message, just minutes apart, and see how he reacted. If he was truly living a double life, he would walk right into their trap. The plan was simple but effective. Susan would text that she was in labor and heading to the hospital. Fifteen minutes later, Megan would send the exact same message. Mike would have to choose which wife to go to, and that choice would reveal everything.
They chose a hospital downtown, equidistant from both their homes. Susan would arrive first and wait in the admissions area. Megan would follow thirty minutes later. If Mike showed up, they would face him together.
As they parted ways, the women hugged. It was a strange embrace between two victims of the same con man. There was no rivalry or jealousy, only shared pain and a resolve to see the truth through to the end. Walking home, Megan thought about how her life had been upended in a single day. That morning, she was a happily married pregnant woman. Now, she was preparing to expose her husband as a bigamist and a fraud.
At home, everything reminded her of Mike: his toothbrush in the bathroom, his favorite coffee in the cupboard, photos of their trips on the walls. Now, every object felt like a prop in a grand play where she’d been an unwitting actor.
Megan sat at her computer and started typing a text to Mike: “Honey, my water broke. I’m heading to the hospital on Garden Avenue. Come quick.” Her fingers froze over the keyboard. Once she hit send, the final act of their family drama would begin.
Mike burst into the maternity ward’s reception area like a hurricane, pushing past people and shouting his wife’s name. His face was flushed, his shirt soaked with sweat, and his eyes were wide with panic. He darted between the two check-in desks, unsure which one to approach.
A nurse looked up from her paperwork, her expression weary.
“Last name?”
“Bell,” Mike gasped. The nurse started flipping through the admissions log.
“That’s odd. We have two Mrs. Bells who were admitted today. Both are in pre-labor rooms.”
Mike froze, looking as if he’d been struck by lightning.
“Two? How is that possible?”
But his voice trembled, betraying his fear. The nurse indifferently gave him the room numbers and pointed down the hall.
He ran down the long corridor, his footsteps echoing off the tiled walls. Fragments of thoughts raced through his mind: a coincidence, a clerical error, anything but the one thing he was terrified to confront. But his pounding heart already knew the truth. As he rounded a corner, Mike stopped dead in his tracks. Standing before him were two pregnant women, both looking at him with an expression he would never forget.
Megan and Susan stood side by side, holding hands. There was no surprise in their eyes, no joy at seeing their husband.
“Hi, honey,” Megan’s voice was ice-cold. “How was work? Or did you get the day off from your business trip?”
Susan said nothing, but her glare was just as damning.
Mike understood. He was caught. He tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. How could he explain the unexplainable? How could he justify seven years of lies? The women turned without a word and walked toward an empty room at the end of the hall. Mike followed, knowing he was about to have the hardest conversation of his life.
The room smelled of disinfectant and fear. Megan closed the door and turned to face him. Susan sat on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on her belly. Mike stood in the middle of the room like a defendant at his own trial.
“Well? Are you going to explain yourself?” Megan pulled the ultrasound reports from her bag and held them up. “Or did you think genetics wouldn’t give you away?”
Mike glanced at the images and grew even paler. He knew about the family trait but had hoped it wouldn’t manifest.
“I can explain everything,” he began, but Susan cut him off with a sharp gesture.
“Explain seven years of lies? Explain marrying her when you were already my husband? Explain the fake business trips and the double life?”
Mike sank into a chair, realizing how futile any excuse would be.
“I loved you both. I couldn’t choose. I thought I could make two women happy at the same time.”
It sounded pathetic, even to him.
Megan showed him her marriage certificate. Susan showed him hers. The dates, the signatures, the official seals. Everything was real, except for the marriages themselves.
“How did you pull it off?”
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