Chapter 1 - The Door He Closed
The first contraction hit so hard Anna Whitmore had to brace both hands on the kitchen counter to stay standing. A bowl of half-cut strawberries slid in front of her, and for a second all she could hear was the hum of the refrigerator and her own breathing.
“Mark,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s time. We need to go.”
Her husband didn’t move from the breakfast nook. He was staring at his phone with the kind of irritation most people saved for spam calls. On the table beside him sat a glossy folder from a real estate company and a coffee mug she didn’t recognize, marked with a lipstick stain too pink to be hers.
Another contraction twisted through her. Anna pressed a hand to the underside of her belly. “Mark.”
He looked up then, not worried, not startled. Cold.
“I’m not doing this again,” he said.
She blinked at him. “Doing what?”
“This.” He waved one hand toward her body, the hospital bag by the stairs, the half-painted nursery down the hall. “The drama. The appointments. The schedule. Everything being about you.”
Anna stared at him, waiting for him to hear himself and walk it back. Instead, he stood, crossed to the closet, yanked out her hospital bag, and threw it across the hardwood floor.
“I’m done carrying you,” he snapped. “You’re dead weight.”
The words landed harder than the contraction.
She could barely bend, let alone pick up the bag. “I’m in labor.”
“That’s not my problem.”
For a long second, neither of them moved. Then Anna looked past him and noticed the hallway table had been cleared except for one thing: their wedding photo had been turned face down.
Something inside her went still.
She reached for her phone with shaking fingers and called her seventy-two-year-old neighbor, Evelyn Keating, who answered on the second ring. Ten minutes later, Evelyn hurried in wearing slippers and a rain jacket over her nightgown.
She took one look at Anna’s face and didn’t ask questions. She hooked an arm around her, lifted the hospital bag, and guided her toward the front door.
Mark leaned against the frame as they passed. “Don’t bother coming back.”
Evelyn stopped and looked him dead in the eye. “You’ll regret that sentence for the rest of your life.”
May you like
In the porch light, Anna turned once more toward the house. Through the front window, she saw the nursery door standing open and a stranger’s lavender garment bag hanging from the banister.
Then another contraction hit, and Evelyn got her into the car.
