Triple Trouble

I must be in the wrong place. The clinic looked expensive and modern, and from the outside, it looked more like a luxurious spa than a fertility clinic. The outside façade of the entire building stood out from the rest of the towering buildings in the block with its overgrown yet well-maintained greenery, which added to its charm. How they managed to build such a beautiful, breathtaking, and striking building in the middle of the upper east side of New York, just a few blocks from Central Park, is beyond me.

At first, I even doubted it and thought I was at the wrong business address. I went around the corner for a few blocks to see if I had a number missing from the business address I wrote down in my best friend's text message or if I was in the wrong neighborhood. They didn't have a sign announcing the clinic's name, which most establishments have upfront. After a few rounds and not wanting to be late for my appointment, I managed to ask the security of the building stationed up front, which I should have done from the beginning. To my relief, he confirmed that it was indeed the building and clinic I was looking for.

I tried to look confident and calm while sitting in their reception area while waiting for the lady to call my name. I have a magazine in my hand and have been flipping through the pages without really seeing what's in it, my mind busy contemplating if I am honestly making the right decision to go through the procedure. It was, after all, a decision I made on impulse just a few days ago. Less than a week, to be exact. Plenty of time, if you ask me.

How did I come to this decision, you ask? It's a long story, but I'll keep it short. On this day, in about ten minutes, I was supposed to be walking down the aisle where I was supposed to get married to my long-term boyfriend, who should have been my fiancé. Jake and I dated for over four years before he asked me to marry him. At that time, I was naive and an honest-to-goodness hopeless romantic. Who wouldn't be when all the notches and tick boxes got a big fat check on my life list so far? I have a charming and loving fiancé who lives with me in our lovely two-bedroom apartment in one of the finest parts of town. We both have stable and lucrative jobs; he works as a lawyer at one of the most prestigious law firms in the country. He will soon move up to become a partner. In contrast, I work full-time in publishing, working my ass off to become the next publishing manager in our New York branch. Life has been good so far, and I couldn't ask for more.

The little girl in me felt giddy and overjoyed with his proposal after I had the time and space to absorb everything that had happened that night. I preferred the whole event to be intimate, just between us, over a good candlelit dinner and great wine. Jake, though, always had a knack for attention, so he decided to do it during one of the busiest events of the year. It was the New Year's Eve party, where all our friends and family were present on both sides. In all honesty, I felt caught off guard the moment I realized he went down on one knee in the middle of the dance floor just a few minutes after the clock struck midnight. Still, I quickly recovered my composure, knowing how easily my emotions showed on my face, which I could not control. I tried it before, and it didn't work. My face looked contorted most disturbingly, so I just gave up on that. It's no use pretending. I learned that it's better for me if I know how to regulate my emotions. Everyone says I'm an open book, and that's just the case.

Jake and I had these conversations about marriage, kids, and starting a family. We had already been dating for over three years, and at some point, these topics would arise, and I was always open to them. Getting married, having kids, and having a life together with the person you truly love are all on my life list. How can I say no to Jake when he conveniently offers everything I ever wanted? So I said yes and pushed my doubts aside, always hopeful for the best. Deep inside, as I said, I'll always be a hopeless romantic.

I looked around the room that night, and everyone in our circle was happy and ecstatic for both of us. The congratulations were in order and pouring from everyone. It was romantic. Jake planned out the entire event, all in perfect timing, just as Jake always wanted. Everyone was excited and visibly happy except for my best friend Dana and my dad. For some reason, they congratulated us as everyone else did, hugged me, and smiled, but somehow, I could see and feel that it didn't reach their eyes.

I later realized that, though I agreed to marry Jake, deep down inside me, this sinking feeling made me think something was wrong. It felt subtly off, yet I couldn't possibly pinpoint or know what that was exactly. That weird vibe had always bothered me, even before Jake came into my life or with all the men I dated. There were only two other guys I seriously dated, one when I was still in college and the other in my early twenties. I was single for more than two years before I met Jake.

I brushed off that weird suspicion, and it has been more than a year since then, with three movements of the wedding date due to varying reasons before the complete end of our relationship just a few days ago, a week before the wedding. I shouldn't be surprised, but the longer the engagement went on and the closer the wedding date got, the heavier the sinking feeling grew in my chest. I bet Jake somehow felt it, too, one way or another. It just didn't feel right, and somehow, when I finally acknowledged this feeling, I realized that Jake was also becoming distant from me. I didn't even notice until it was too late.

The breaking point?

I decided to surprise Jake in his office that Wednesday morning to discuss what was happening between us before the wedding. I brought with me his favorite sushi from his favorite Japanese restaurant that must have cost me an arm and a leg, with a massive smile on my face and the determination to repair the growing void in our relationship and talk through whatever this is that's going on between us. We are getting married, after all.

I was the one who was utterly surprised instead.

My best smile was plastered when I walked into his office with Jake's pants down his knees and his secretary half naked, her boobs bouncing. Her black skirt hiked up to her waist while she hung on the edge of the office couch for dear life, loudly moaning while Jake slammed his dick inside her, fucking her as if his life depended on it.

"Clara Beaufort?"

In the haze of my trip down memory lane, I completely forgot where and why I was there. That scene will forever leave an imprint on my head. I heard the receptionist call my name again while looking at me curiously, her head slightly tilted. She must be wondering why I'm utterly absent-minded on top of just staring into blank space, my eyes unfocused. Realizing I must have looked like a lunatic, I promptly stood up and approached her. "That would be me," I replied.

Right. Back to reality as it is.

I'm in a fertility clinic somewhere in uptown New York with a recommendation from my best friend, Dana Cortez, a renowned medical geneticist in the world, I would say, and I begged her to give me the information of the clinic after I rushed to her apartment after what I witnessed. She was supposed to walk down the aisle ahead of me as my bridesmaid.