In addition to us...

I'm in shock... I've only been in Madrid for three weeks, it can't be possible that I'm pregnant... unless... no... it can't... it can't be...

"Congratulations to both of you," the doctor says, bringing me back from my thoughts.

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

"Thank you, doctor," I said, standing up. "When can I leave?"

"Today itself," the doctor says. "You'll just stay a few more hours for observation, okay?"

"Of course," I responded, thoughtfully.

I take advantage of those hours of observation to think... I'm pregnant... I'm finally pregnant... I touched my belly... my child finally... then the anguish arises... but... who will be the father of my baby?

***

We leave the hospital, and my husband is radiant, touching my belly over and over again, talking a lot about the pregnancy, but I can't pay attention. We get into the car, and I admire the scenery outside the hospital. I'm happy but thoughtful. I feel like I should tell X about my pregnancy, but at the same time, I don't want to. He'd suspect that the child might be his... and things could escalate and become uncontrollable, affecting Carlos. I look at my husband; he's so radiant... if this child isn't his... he won't forgive me... this baby has to be my husband's...

"I told you," Carlos says, driving. His smile is like a knife piercing my heart.

"Sorry, but what did you say?" I asked, seriously.

"I told you that I got you pregnant that day," Carlos repeated.

"Yes, you did," I confirmed with a slight smile.

"Is everything okay?" Carlos asks, seriously. "You don't seem happy with the news..."

"I am," I responded. "I think I'm still in shock..."

"I love you, Dalia," Carlos said, holding my hand. "And we'll go through this together, you can be sure of that."

***

To celebrate pregnancy, nothing is better than having a beautiful dinner in our home. I invite everyone without telling them the reason. I know they're expecting another promotion for Carlos or just a welcome reception to Madrid... anything but a baby. I choose a light, bright dress. Before putting it on, I admire my body in the mirror. I turned to the side to see if there was any sign that there was a life growing inside me. Even though it didn't show yet, I ran my hand over my belly... for the first time, I felt complete... my child had finally filled the existential void...

"They've arrived," Carlos says, appearing at the door. He smiles when he sees me admiring my belly. "Leave some for the guests."

"Alright," I said, putting on my dress. I looked in the mirror one more time. This will be the most important night of my life.

"Welcome back home!" my mother says, approaching. She hugs me, emotionally. Then I realized that since I arrived, I hadn't seen my parents, let alone given any news that I was alive. She holds my face and says, "How pale you look... is everything okay with you? You seem sick... did you catch some disease in Africa?"

"My dear, leave our daughter alone," my father said, approaching. He kisses my cheek and says, "She's doing just fine. So, have you figured out what you'll do with your life, or was the trip just a way to spend money?"

"I missed you too, Dad," I said bitterly.

"Dalia," my sister shouts, hugging me tightly. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too," I said, pinching my sister's cheek.

"Did you bring any gifts?" my sister asks, curious.

"Yes, I did," I replied. "And also some big news."

Right after my family, there are Elson, Lorenzo, Ramon, and their respective partners. Then, my friend Filomena and her husband complete the group. We enjoy the wonderful food prepared by Carlos, and he and I talk about Africa, the places, the rally... everyone is having a good time.

"So," my father said, drawing everyone's attention to him. "What's the big news you have for all of us?"

"Well," I began, smiling at Carlos, who kissed my hand, smitten. I gaze at each of my guests for a while and smile triumphantly. Finally, I will give them the news they have been waiting for in these past years. "Carlos and I went to the doctor yesterday..."

"Don't tell me you're sick?" my mother asks, concerned. "I knew going to Africa was a bad idea. They have so many diseases, some lethal..."

"I thought so too," I started explaining, anxious. "I thought it might be malaria..."

"Are you sick?" my father asks. "I bet you ate some exotic food and now have AIDS..."

"I'm not sick," I reacted, looking at Carlos.

"Oh my God, AIDS?" Valeria asks, and the rest of the guests become agitated.

"Guys, Dalia is not sick," Carlos explains, trying to calm everyone down.

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

"I'm pregnant!" I blurt out, silencing everyone at the table. I hold Carlos's hand as I observe the reactions of all the guests, noticing a certain discomfort coming from them. "This is the part where you all get emotional and congratulate us for finally not having another one of Carlos's promotions."

"Congratulations," my mother says, shyly. I sense a hint of doubt in her voice, as if she suspects something.

But she's not the only one; everyone at the table showed the same reaction when congratulating us, leaving the atmosphere heavy enough for even Carlos to display a certain discomfort.

"If we had known that you had to be away from Carlos for so long to get pregnant, we should have encouraged you to go alone since the honeymoon," my father jokes, trying to lighten the mood at the table and, as always, humiliating me.

Everyone laughs at the sarcastic comment, including Carlos, but I can't. I can only think that they all know... they all think the same as my father...

"At least the baby won't have to worry about sunscreen since it'll be pure melanin," Elson says.

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

"I just hope we don't have any surprises during childbirth," my father jokes.

"Carlos, don't forget to ask them to keep the lights on; otherwise, it'll be hard to find your baby in there," Elson taunts once again.

Laughter increases with each joke related to my baby. I look at Carlos, who doesn't seem to mind. But with each hint, I feel a punch in my stomach, my blood boils, not because they doubt me, but because they mock my child. I want to kick everyone out and retreat to my room until my baby is born. But I don't do it; I keep giving half-hearted smiles until the end of dinner. I've never been so grateful when they started to leave, with my parents being the last.

"Congratulations once again," my father says, hugging Carlos. "Take good care of my grandson."

"Or granddaughter," Carlos says, making his preference clear.

"Congratulations, my daughter," my father continued, hugging me tightly. He touches my face and notices my irritation. "My daughter, don't take today's jokes seriously. They're just... jokes."

"Say that when they doubt the paternity of your child."

"But nobody is doubting," my father argues. "We just find this situation a bit strange; maybe something could have happened during this trip..."

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

***

I step out of the shower and find Carlos making our bed. I smiled at him and sat on my side of the bed, brushing my wet hair. I wish I could say I'm sorry for the vomiting incident, but my father deserved it. I lie down next to my husband, who watches me attentively.

"What's wrong?" I asked, snuggling into his chest.

"Nothing... I'm just thinking if you did that on purpose," Carlos says, running his hand through my hair.

"I wish I had replied, but it's just our baby letting us know that he's here and didn't appreciate the jokes at dinner," I replied, irritated.

"Don't worry about that, Dalia," Carlos says, stroking my hair. "They were just joking, you know how they are."

"I know," I said without looking at Carlos. "They don't bother me, but what matters is what you will think of me... if you also doubt me..."

"Love," Carlos said, adjusting himself on the 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 else but the arrival of our child."

"I love you," I said, touching my husband's hand. This child has to be his. "I love you so much, never forget that."

"I love you too," Carlos responded, lying down again and embracing me.

I nestle in his arms, touching his chest, trying to escape my thoughts. I try to convince myself that no matter who the father of my child is, Carlos is the father, even if he's not.

"You know, the only thing that occupies my mind about the baby," Carlos says, catching my attention. I held my breath; he might have suspected something. "It's which side of the family our child will take after. Mine or yours?"

"That's a good question," I replied, relieved.

Who will our child take after? Me, Carlos... or Mr. X?