Chapter 1: The Woman at the Door
“Eight months pregnant or not, she’s still just a hired hand to me. Watching her serve the guests might actually be entertaining.””
That was what Paula thought as she watched Renee approach the reception table.
Her lips, however, formed a completely different expression.
A warm, welcoming smile.
The grand opening of Devon’s new auto repair shop was supposed to be one of the happiest days of Renee’s life. The small business stood on a busy suburban road outside Columbus, Ohio, with freshly painted blue walls, a polished sign above the entrance, and balloons tied to the fence.
A banner stretched across the garage doors.
*GRAND OPENING — DEVON'S AUTO REPAIR.*
Renee had helped paint those walls just days earlier.
She had spent evenings arranging supplies, wiping dust from the counters, and organizing paperwork while her pregnant belly pressed against her work clothes.
Now, after finishing an exhausting shift at the supermarket, she had come straight to the celebration.
She wore a blue maternity polo shirt, black work trousers, and comfortable shoes. Her hair was tied back, and a white bakery box rested carefully in both hands.
Inside were the cupcakes she had ordered that morning.
She had even paid for the custom decoration herself.
Each cupcake carried a tiny blue icing wrench.
Renee smiled as she approached the entrance.
“Excuse me,” she said cheerfully.
“Could you put these on the reception table?””
Paula immediately turned toward her.
She was Devon’s new front-desk manager, a woman in her late fifties who wore a cream-colored blouse, gold earrings, and a name badge pinned perfectly above her chest.
“Oh, absolutely, sweetheart!”” Paula exclaimed.
She extended both hands and accepted the box.
Renee glanced toward the garage.
“Is Devon inside? I wanted to surprise him.””
Paula looked at Renee’s swollen belly.
Then at her supermarket uniform.
Then at the comfortable shoes.
Her smile remained in place.
“Of course, dear. We’re just getting everything organized.””
Renee nodded.
“Thank you. I helped with the decorations earlier this week, so I know where everything goes.””
Paula placed the cupcake box securely on the reception table inside the entrance.
Then she turned around.
And stretched her forearm across the doorway.
Renee stopped.
The cupcakes had been welcomed inside.
Renee had not.
“Delivery people use the back entrance,” Paula said pleasantly, pointing toward a narrow passage beside the building.
For a moment, Renee simply stared at her.
Her hands were empty now.
She slowly lowered one hand to her stomach.
“I'm not delivering anything,” Renee replied.
Paula tilted her head.
“Then what are you doing here?””
Renee took a breath.
“I'm Devon's wife.””
Paula raised her eyebrows.
Her arm remained firmly across the doorway.
“His wife is already inside.””
Renee blinked.
“What?””
“His wife is with him,” Paula repeated.
“She came earlier.””
Renee looked past Paula toward the garage.
“Then call Devon out here.””
Paula gave a small, impatient laugh.
“Why would I interrupt him? He's entertaining important guests.””
“Please call him.””
“You can wait until the celebration is over.””
Renee's expression tightened.
“I don't think you understand. I helped open this place.””
Paula glanced down at her belly again.
Then she pointed toward the cupcakes.
“Well, if you're going to stand around, you can help arrange those. We have guests arriving, and somebody needs to make sure the food is ready.””
Renee stared at her.
She had heard her introduce herself as Devon's wife.
She had explained that she helped prepare the shop.
Paula had looked directly at her pregnant stomach.
And still, the woman was treating her like an employee who had arrived late for a shift.
“I'm not here to serve anybody,” Renee said quietly.
Paula's smile disappeared.
“Listen, young lady. Don't embarrass yourself.””
Renee shifted her weight, feeling the familiar pressure in her lower back.
“Call Devon.””
“Don't make him lose face in front of his customers.””
Renee looked at the arm blocking the entrance.
Then she lifted her eyes toward the garage.
“DEVON!””
Her voice carried across the reception area.
Several guests turned.
Inside the garage, Devon looked up from a conversation with a customer.
He was wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was neatly styled, and a silver watch gleamed on his wrist.
Beside him stood a tall blonde woman in a fitted red dress.
Celeste.
She had one hand wrapped around Devon's arm.
When Devon heard Renee's voice, his expression changed.
He turned toward the entrance.
Paula immediately lowered her arm.
“Mr. Devon,” she called, suddenly polite.
“There's a little situation at the front.””
Devon began walking toward them.
Celeste followed without releasing his arm.
Renee watched the two approach.
Her eyes moved to Celeste's hand resting comfortably against her husband's sleeve.
Then she looked at Devon.
Her fingers tightened against her maternity shirt.
“Devon,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Who is she?””
Devon stopped.
Celeste looked at Renee.
Then she glanced down at the pregnant belly and smiled faintly.
Renee swallowed.
“Why is she holding your arm?””
Nobody answered.
Renee's eyes became glossy.
She looked directly at her husband.
“Which one of us is your wife?””
Paula's confident expression finally cracked.
Devon's smile disappeared completely.
He looked at Renee.
Then at Celeste.
May you like
His mouth opened.
And just as he drew breath to answer, the entire reception area fell silent.
