Two months passed faster than they seemed. They always did. Dion kept his end of the bargain. He made more perfume for Dr. Gilbert, one bottle per month. There was no way he went through an entire bottle each month. He had to be stockpiling it. At least, Dion hoped so.

It meant a few more late nights at work. Easy enough to explain. He was doing research. Any extra work activities to advance one’s career involved a suitable time commitment. The extra money was a little harder to explain. $5000 was larger than his paycheck and a monthly bonus seemed excessive. As they shared finances, keeping it from Liz was impossible. He could explain it away well enough. Money for materials and the extra work he was putting in. She trusted him enough to believe it. He disliked abusing Liz’s trust like that, but he was getting used to it. He was getting used to a lot these days.

Besides, it was not a complete lie. He put in a fifty-hour work week with teaching, forming lesson plans, and grading. With even more responsibilities, he spent even less time at home. Seeing Liz was still a daily occurrence, but spending time with her became a rare treat.

He relished the time with her, but it was hard to focus. His thoughts kept drifting to work. What he had to do. What he had to put up with. Dr. Gilbert saw him more frequently. Showing up at his office to talk to him. Not even to talk about anything particular, just talk. Dion often wondered if he could see his visible discomfort with his presence. If he did, he seemed to relish it. That, and talking about how well the perfume worked. His appetite was rapacious. With thousands of students to choose from, he was not short of prospects. Young, confused, full of hormones, they were easy prey for the worldly professor. Dion got to hear all about it.

That was not the worst part. Samantha was starting to invite Dion to things. Social events, staff mixers, little dinners with department heads. Opportunities to network, he called them. It was funny, but now that Dion had a wealth of opportunities to advance, he did not want them. Reluctance to join in or social anxiety, it felt the same. Did not stop Dr. Gilbert from offering to take him. Dion refused every time, but was starting to run out of excuses.

All the time apart made him feel distant. A widening chasm between him and his wife rapidly filling with their lack of intimacy and the weight of his misdeeds. They never spent this little time together since they were first dating. He was growing cold and knew it, but he could not tell her. It was not just the money; he did not want to give that up. Everything around it was worse. The tyrant lording (ladying?) over him, the shady dealings at the university, his lack of fulfillment from teaching a bunch of Samantha’s potential victims, being a glorified magical drug dealer, it weighed him down like a malignant aura. Ever growing and pressing on him from all sides. He could bear it. It was for Liz’s protection. Protect her from the tyrant, from a loss of quality of life, and from his own malodorous compunction. Telling himself that every day brought him closer to accepting his lot. Better to feel nothing than bad.

Tonight, for the first time in a few weeks, he had enough of a reprieve to have supper with Liz. Papers graded, the next exam planned, Dr. Gilbert just got his latest bottle of perfume a few days ago and he had plenty of time to gather materials for next month’s. A momentary respite from all the forces colluding to elevate his stress level.

And he could not enjoy it. He sat there picking at his food, looking at Liz every couple of minutes, and unable to think of anything to say. She talked to him. Adept at those social niceties, she could always get someone to open up. One word answers was all he could manage. He tried to focus on what she was saying, he really did, but his attention kept floating away.

“Dion….are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” She finally said. Dion caught that. He felt his heart sink. She never missed anything, but this was so obvious even the most socially inept mountain hermit could pick up on it.

“Huh? Um, no. Just… tired.” He replied. He was tired, so that was not a lie. Sleep was useless for this kind of tired.

Liz shook her head. She reached out and put her paw over Dion’s. “That’s not it. You’ve been miles away lately. Something’s on your mind.” Dion turned his head and looked into her eyes. “Everything isn’t okay… you can tell me.”

Looking into those eyes, he saw sympathy, love, and care. She wanted to help him, support him, everything a dutiful wife would do. With what he did, he deserved none of it.

He could not tell her. He looked away. “I’m fine. Just busy and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But…..”

“Not now, please!” He said that louder than he should have, pulling his paw from her grip. His lips pursed, realizing he was shouting. When he looked at Liz again, her eyes were wide. Now he was even guiltier.

“… sorry. Um, it’s… just…stress. I didn’t mean…..”

“No, sorry, I shouldn’t push you.” Liz picked up her fork and poked at her plate. “I may not know what’s going on in your head, but I know you’ve been through a lot… promise you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“I will.” Dion could not keep that promise, no matter how often he made it.

Uncomfortable silence hung in the air like swamp miasma. They picked at their food. Dion tried to avoid eye contact.

Liz cleared her throat. “There’s… something else I wanted to tell you.”

Dion looked up. Liz was smiling, but not a toothy one. Subdued, a little sheepish. Odd, for her. Her inner ears were tinged red. Embarrassed? Shy? What could it mean? Dion tilted his head, unable to compute.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“I’m… pregnant.” She beamed. Practically glowed. This was a happy announcement for her. A joyous moment of triumph for an expectant mother finally blessed with the child she wanted.

Dion did not share it at all. He dropped his fork, eyes wide. Pregnant? Liz was pregnant. Impossible!

“No……” He said.

“… no?” She answered.

“This… this can’t… you can’t… with me…..” She was pregnant. That could not possibly be his child. That only meant one thing. Unfaithful. She cheated on him. That had to be it.

That could not be it. Liz would never do such a thing. He knew her too well for that.

But, did he? They had been apart for too long. Seeing each other intermittently. He was not there for her. Maybe… maybe she found comfort in someone else’s arms? They had not even been intimate since before that miserably unfortunate party.

But why tell him? He glanced at her belly. Could she not hide it anymore? She was looking a little fluffier around the middle. It escaped his notice because, really, how often did he look at her these days?

Nothing made sense. She was staring at him and her smile was gone. Saying ‘no’ was probably the worst thing he could have said.

“It’s… it can’t be mine…” Except for that. That was the worst thing he could have said.

Liz’s muzzle creased into a scowl. Angry, but tears rimmed her eyes. That delightful mix of outrage, anger, and sadness that came when a man accused his pregnant wife of not carrying his child. “I… how could you say that!?” Her paws clenched on the table. “I would never do that! Of course it’s yours!”

Even though she probably cheated on him to get pregnant, he felt the guilt. Had to salvage this; to justify himself. He shook his head.

“No, no… You… don’t understand. I can’t have children.”

“You can’t….” Liz tilted her head. One could tell she had a hundred questions pop into her mind at once. They were fighting each other to see which would emerge first. “… how do you know?”

“It’s… what I am.” He hated to play the Izorian again. It was not fair to expect her to understand, but he could not erase what he was. “No Izorian has ever been able to reproduce with someone not of our race. We… can’t mix.”

“That… doesn’t sound possible.” Liz stated. Still angry, but she sighed. “…but a lot of the stuff you do isn’t possible.”

Dion nodded. “A seal put on us long ago to keep us from mixing with the…” Don’t say slave “… other races.”

“… none?”

“I’ve never heard of a single instance…” Dion looked away. “So… it can’t be… mine. I’m sorry.” He was not sure why he was apologizing. If this was true, she was the one who cheated on him. That felt just as impossible to him as being unable to have children because of some ancient, race-based curse did to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Liz’s voice quivered. She did not cry often, but her voice always did that when she did. Made him want to look at her even less. It would rip his heart out to see her cry.

“… I was afraid you’d get angry.” Or something like this would happen.

“You should have told me.” Liz tried to wipe her eyes. The tears flowed freely. She could still talk. “I know what this looks like. I swear, I’ve been faithful. Why would I ever want another man when I have you?”

Dion was at a loss for words. At least he finally had a new crisis to temporarily eclipse the old.

“I’ll take any test you want. Just please, please believe me.” She wrapped both her paws around one of Dion’s. He felt warmth from her touch and wanted to pull away. Ever faithful, she wanted to make this right. Maybe even more strongly than the feeling of betrayal from Dion hiding his infertility. Disgust for himself putting her through this, he wanted to believe her. But, how could he?

Magical sight. Why did it take so long to think of this? A baby this far along would have its own aura. He focused through the emotional damage and opened his other eyes.

The soft, normally comforting glow surrounded Liz. Her elevated emotional state made it more chaotic, turbulence rippling across the normally serene blue. He traced his gaze from her eyes to her abdomen. Even before he got there, he noticed a change. Blue bled away into violent. Shimmering purple with specks of gold. Faint and partially eclipsed by the mother, but there.

Dion’s mouth hung agape. “She’s… mine…..” He looked up at his wife. “… ours.”

“You believe me?” All the tension left Liz’s body. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Never. What convinced… did you use that magic vision?”

Dion nodded.

“Hm….” Liz sighed. “Well, I’m a little hurt you used it on me without asking, but I did say I’d take any test.” One of her ears flicked. “Wait, did you say ‘she’?”

Dion nodded again.

“… you can tell?”

Third nod.

Despite her tears, she smiled. While pregnancy could make one have labile emotions, this was not an example. The simple joy of knowing she had a daughter on the way was enough. “A little girl…...”

“Uh… sorry. Did I… ruin the surprise?” Dion stammered.

Liz shook her head. Some would have clicked their tongue at Dion’s awkwardness, but Liz still found it endearing. She stuck with him for over ten years, after all. “I wanted to know anyway, dad.”

Dad. A short word, but everyone had one. It did not bring to mind much aside from one’s parent. That is, until you were slated to become one. The word had even more gravity when applied to someone who never thought himself incapable. Impossible? Absolutely.

But it happened. How? Dion could not question it. It was unlikely his parents lied to him. History showed Izorians never created viable offspring with other races. ‘Half-Izorian’ was not a real category. Did the seal break down over the years? Possible, but unlikely. Magic like theirs was made to last through the ages.

Maybe it was best not to overthink it, just this once. No matter the explanation, it was happening. A new mix of thrills and fears shouted at once in his head before being silenced. He looked into Liz’s eyes and could see her joy. A glow brighter than her aura, that of motherhood. How often did she talk about being a mother? The excitement over having their own family. They had been trying since they were married, Liz oblivious to Dion’s infertility despite not being so infertile after all. Speaking glowingly about their future children. He was scared to be a dad, but Liz’s desire for kids made him want them.

And there were nights when he dreamed of having his own children to love and dote upon and raise them up so they did not hate themselves like he did.

He smiled. “I’m… going to be a dad.”

“You are. And you’re going to be the best dad ever, just like I’m going to be the best mom ever.” Liz pulled him into a hug. He put his arms around her. They did not need to say anything else. He put a paw to her belly. It was too early for him to feel the child move, but he could swear he felt her shift to draw closer to his paw.

The news was so wonderful he did not even think about Dr. Gilbert for the rest of the night.