My husband wasn’t with me.
Daniel had sent a short message earlier: Stuck in meetings. I’ll try to come later. He always said that. Meetings. Deadlines. Calls that couldn’t wait. But I knew the truth now. I knew about the late nights, the phone turned face-down, the unfamiliar perfume clinging to his clothes. His absence had nothing to do with work and everything to do with another woman.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to stay calm. Stress wasn’t good for the baby. I repeated that thought like a mantra.
Then the door flew open.
The sound was violent enough to make me gasp. The handle slammed into the wall, and instantly my heart rate surged, the monitor beside me breaking into frantic beeps. I opened my eyes just as a woman stepped inside.
She was tall, impeccably dressed, and seething with rage.
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