I’m in shock… I’m only three weeks in Madrid, there’s no way I’m pregnant… unless… no… can’t… can’t be…

— Congratulations to both. - says the doctor, awakening from my thoughts.

— Thank you. - says Carlos, excited.  He holds my hand and smiles.

— Thank you, doctor. - I say, getting up.— When can I leave?

— Today .- says the doctor. —There will only be a few more hours for observation, okay?

— Of course. - I answer, thoughtful.

I take those hours of observation to think… I’m pregnant… I’m finally pregnant… I touch my belly… my son finally… then anguish arises… but… who will be the father of my baby? 

***

We left the hospital, my husband is radiant, touches my belly several and several times, talks a lot about pregnancy, but I can not pay attention.  We get in the car and I admire the landscape of the hospital.  I’m happy, but thoughtful. I feel that I should talk about my pregnancy to X, but at the same time I do not want to. He’ll suspect that his son may be his… and things can get bigger and uncontrollable and affect Carlos.  I look at my husband, he is so radiant… if this child is not his… he will not forgive me… 

— I told you .– says Carlos, driving.  His smile is like a knife stabbing my chest.

—I’m sorry, but what did I say? - I ask, serious.

—I told you I got her pregnant that day. – repeat, Carlos. 

— Yes, you said. - I confirm with a slight smile.

—Is everything okay? - asks Carlos, seriously. — You don’t seem happy with the news…

— I am, yes .- I answer.— I think I’m still in shock…

—I love you, Dalia. - says Carlos, holding my hand.— And we’ll get through this together, you can be sure of that.

***
To celebrate pregnancy, nothing better than to make a beautiful dinner in our home. I invite everyone without saying the reason, I know they expect another promotion from Carlos, or just a welcome back to Barcelona… anything, except a son. I choose a light and light dress. Before I wear it, I admire my body in the mirror. I turn aside to see if I already have any indication that there is a life being generated within me. Even not appearing, I pass my hand over my belly…for the first time I feel complete… my son is finally filled the existential void he felt…

— They arrived. - Carlos says, appearing at the door. He smiles as he sees me admiring my belly .— Leave some for the guests.

— All right . - I say, putting on my dress. I look again in the mirror: That will be the most important night of my life.

— Welcome back home! - my mother says, approaching. She hugs me, thrilled. Then I realize that since I arrived, I had not seen my parents, much less given news that I was alive. She holds my face and says. —How pale are you… is everything okay with you? Seems to be sick… got some disease from Africa?

— Honey, leave our daughter alone. - my father says, approaching. He kisses my face and says. — It’s fine. So, have you defined what you will do with your life, or the trip was just to spend money.

— I missed you too, father. - I say, bitter.

— Daliaaa - shouts my sister, hugging me. — What a miss!

— I missed you a lot, too. - I say, squeezing my sister’s cheek.

— Did you bring gifts? - asks my sister, curious.

—Yes, I brought. - I reply .— And also a great novelty.

Right after my family is Elson, Ramon and their respective escorts. Then my friend Filomena and her husband closed the group. We had the wonderful food made by Carlos, he and I told about Africa, the places, about the rally… are all having fun.

—So. - My father says, calling everyone’s attention to himself. —What is the great news you have to give us all?

—Good. - I start smiling at Carlos, who kisses my hand, in love. I stared at each of my guests for a long time and smiled triumphantly: I would finally give them the news they had been waiting for in recent years. — Carlos and I were at the doctor yesterday…

— Don’t tell me you’re sick? - my mother asks, worried. — I knew that going to Africa was a bad idea. They have many diseases, some lethal…

— I thought so... - I begin to explain, anxious. — I thought it was malaria…

— Are you sick? - my father asks. — I bet you ate some exotic food, and now you have AIDS…

— I’m not sick. - I react, looking at Carlos.

—Oh my God, AIDS? - asks Valeria, accompanied by the turmoil of the guests present.

—People, the Dalia is not sick. - explains Carlos trying to calm the spirits.

— But she said she went to the doctor.- says Elson receiving support from everyone at the table. — As far as I know, only sick people go to the doctor.

— I’m pregnant! - I shoot everyone at the table. Holding Carlos' hand as I watch the reaction of all present and notice a certain discomfort coming from them. - This is the time when you get emotional and congratulate us for finally not being another promotion of Carlos.

— Congratulations. - says my mother, shy. I feel a hint of doubt in the tone of her voice, as if I suspect something.

But she was not the only one, all the same demonstrated this by congratulating us, leaving the mood of the table heavy enough for Carlos to demonstrate a certain discomfort.

— If we knew you had to stay all this long time from Carlos to get pregnant, we should have encouraged you to go alone since the honeymoon. - my father jokes trying to relieve tension from the table and, as always, humiliating me.

Everyone laughs at the acid comment, including Carlos, but I can’t. I can only think that everyone knows… everyone thinks the same as my father… 

— At least the baby will not even worry about sunscreen, since it will be pure melanin. - release Elson.

— If it’s a boy, I already have a perfect name for him : Eto'o. – says Hernandez, my husband’s partner.

— I just hope we have no surprise at the time of delivery. - my father jokes.

— Carlos, does not forget to ask to leave the lights on, if it will not be difficult to find your baby inside. - Elson mocks once again.

The laughter increases with each play related to my baby. I look at Carlos, who does not seem to care. But with every hint, I feel a punch in my stomach, my blood boils, not for doubting me, but for mocking my son. I want to expel everyone and take refuge in my room until my baby is born. But I don’t, I’m letting out faint smiles until the end of dinner. I never thanked so much when they started to leave, being the last, my parents. 

— Again, congratulations. - says my father, hugging Carlos. —Take good care of my grandson.

— Or granddaughter. - says Carlos, making his preference very clear.

—Congratulations, my daughter. - continues my father holding me tight. He touches my face and notices my irritation. — My daughter, don’t take today’s pranks seriously. They’re just… pranks.

—Say that when they doubt about the fatherhood of your child.

— But no one is doubting. - argues my father. — We just found this situation a little strange, maybe something could have happened on this trip…

I don’t know if it was the anger, but my stomach got wrapped quickly and everything I ate at dinner ended up in my father’s suit. Revenge... sometimes come in the form of vomit.

***
 I leave the bath and find Carlos making our bed, smile at him and sit on my side of the bed , brushing my wet hair. I would like to say that I was sorry for the episode of vomiting, but my father deserved it. I lie next to my husband, who watches me attentively. 

— What was it? - I ask, snuggling in her chest. 

—Nothing… I’m just wondering if you would have done that on purpose. 

—Well, I would like to, but that’s just our son warning that he is present and did not like the indirect dinner. - I answer, irritated. 

—Don’t worry about it, Dahlia. - says Carlos, rubbing his hand in my hair. — They were just playing, you know how they are. 

— I know.- I say without looking at Carlos. — They do not worry me, but what you will think of me… if you also doubt me… 

—Love. - says Carlos, settling into bed. He sits facing me and touches my belly. — I don’t care what they say or think, I know that this child is mine. This baby is our child, Dalia, and always will be. I don’t care about anything but the arrival of our son. 

— I love you. - I say, touching my husband’s hand. That child has to be his. — I love you very much, never forget that.

 —I love you too. - replies Carlos, lying down again and hugging me. I snuggle in his arms, touch his chest, trying to escape my thoughts.

 I try to get it into my head that no matter who the father of my child is, Carlos is the father, even if not. 

— You know, the only thing that surrounds my head about the baby. - says Carlos, drawing my attention. I hold my breath, he may have suspected something. — Which side of the family will our son pull? Mine or yours? 

— A good question. - I answer, relieved. 

Who’s he gonna pull? Me, Carlos… or Mr. X?