When I announced my pregnancy, my mother-in-law said, “get rid of it.”

The Final Meeting with Thomas

Three weeks after Cole walked me to my car, Thomas’ lawyer sent an email to Gideon requesting a meeting between Thomas and me with both attorneys present. Gideon called me immediately after receiving it.

His voice was careful when he asked if I wanted to consider it. I sat at my parents’ kitchen table staring at my phone and feeling my stomach tighten.

The last time I had seen Thomas was the night I packed my bags while he sat on our couch asking who would want me. Gideon said we didn’t have to agree to anything and that these meetings sometimes made things worse instead of better.

I thought about it for two days before calling him back and saying yes. Mom looked worried when I told her.

Dad asked if I was sure. He reminded me that Thomas had his chance to be decent and chose his mother instead.

But I needed to hear what Thomas had to say. I needed to know if any part of the man I married still existed under Margaret’s control.

The meeting happened on a Thursday afternoon at a conference room in a building downtown that neither lawyer’s office used. It was neutral territory that belonged to nobody.

I arrived 10 minutes early with Gideon and we sat in hard plastic chairs in the waiting area until Thomas showed up with his lawyer. Thomas looked terrible in a way that surprised me.

His suit hung loose like he had lost weight and his face had a grayish tone that made him look sick. Dark circles under his eyes suggested he wasn’t sleeping.

His lawyer was a sharp woman in her 50s who shook hands with Gideon and nodded politely at me without smiling. We all walked into the conference room together and sat on opposite sides of a long table.

The room smelled like cleaning products and the fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Thomas kept his eyes on the table for the first few minutes while his lawyer reviewed the purpose of the meeting.

Then he finally looked up at me. He started by saying he was sorry for how things happened.

His voice was quiet and he kept his hands folded on the table in front of him. I watched his face and waited for him to say something real.

Then he added that his mother was just worried about him being trapped in a difficult situation. He said she had only been trying to protect him from making a mistake he would regret.

The words hit me like cold water. This was not an apology for what he had said or done, but an apology for the outcome.

He was not taking responsibility for calling our baby defective or suggesting abortion to please Margaret. He was expressing regret that I had reacted badly to his mother’s concerns.

I looked at Gideon and saw his jaw tighten. Thomas kept talking about how stressful everything had been and how he never meant for things to get this bad.

He said maybe we had both overreacted and that his mom really did have valid concerns about genetic testing. I felt something inside me go completely cold.

This wasn’t remorse. This was Thomas trying to rewrite history so he could feel better about his choices.

Gideon asked Thomas’ lawyer if there was a specific proposal they wanted to discuss. The lawyer glanced at Thomas and then said he wanted to talk about the baby’s future.

Thomas shifted in his chair and looked at me with an expression that might have been meant to seem sincere. He said he had been thinking a lot about everything and he didn’t actually want to be a father right now.

The words came out slowly like he was testing how they would sound. His lawyer jumped in to say that Thomas recognized he wasn’t ready for the responsibilities of parenthood given his current life circumstances.

Then Thomas asked if I would consider allowing his parents to adopt the baby. The conference room went completely silent.

I stared at him, unable to process what I just heard. He wanted me to give my child to Margaret.

He wanted to give her to the woman who had called my baby defective and demanded I abort. He wanted to give her to the woman who had thrown my ultrasound photos in the trash and told me my genes were contaminated.

Thomas kept talking about how his parents had resources and experience and could provide stability. He said it would be better for everyone if the baby was raised by people who were ready.

He said that I could still be involved somehow, maybe visits or something they could work out. I stood up so fast my chair scraped against the floor.

Gideon put a hand on my arm but I pulled away and walked to the window. My hands were shaking and I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs.

The audacity of Thomas sitting there suggesting I hand my daughter over to his mother made me so angry I couldn’t form words. Behind me I heard Gideon’s voice, cold and sharp, telling Thomas’ lawyer that this meeting was over.

“We were done negotiating anything beyond basic divorce terms and child support,” Gideon said.

Thomas tried to say something but Gideon cut him off. “If Thomas wasn’t interested in being a father then he could sign away his rights, but there was absolutely no scenario where Margaret Rossi would ever have custody of my child,” he said.

I heard chairs moving and papers shuffling. Gideon touched my shoulder gently and said we were leaving. I walked out of that conference room without looking back at Thomas.

Standing My Ground Against Lies

Two days later my friend Jessica called me sounding uncomfortable and said she needed to tell me something. We had been friends since college and she still moved in some of the same social circles as Thomas’ family.

She said Margaret had been talking to people at the country club and at charity events. She was telling anyone who would listen that I was mentally unstable.

According to Margaret’s version of events, I was the one who had wanted an abortion because I was afraid of having a disabled child. When Thomas refused, I had made up lies about his family to justify leaving him.