Chapter 4

At seven the next morning, the hotel client canceled my final presentation.

I stared at the email, my fingers frozen above the trackpad.

The investors could not risk having the lead designer withdraw midway through a time-sensitive project. The contract had already been awarded to another firm.

The last line read:

"Thank you to your husband for informing us in advance."

Blood rushed to my head.

I reopened the schedule I had confirmed the night before, then checked the sender's address. There was no mistake.

Seven months of work had been canceled by my husband while I slept.

I grabbed my phone and went into the kitchen.

Graham was making breakfast for Brynn. She sat at the island in my old robe, the nursery key beside her.

I slammed my phone onto the counter. Her plate rattled.

"You went into my office last night so you could destroy my work?"

Graham read the email. Something flickered across his face before he turned off the stove.

"I told them you were pregnant, things at home were unstable, and you needed to reduce your workload. I only suggested that they prepare an alternative."

"They were choosing the lead designer today. You knew exactly how they would interpret that."

Brynn's fork stopped halfway to her mouth.

"Graham was worried about you. The doctor just told you to reduce your stress."

"Call them now." I kept my eyes on Graham.

"Tell them I never withdrew and that you had no right to decide whether I was capable of working."

His mouth tightened.

"I'm not calling them. You were searching for apartments last night, and now you want to take on another high-pressure project. You can't even tell what's best for the baby anymore."

The words struck me in the chest.

He had used the spare key to enter my office. He had searched my computer. Once he realized I might leave, his first move had been to destroy my income.

"You entered my workspace without permission, searched my private records, and turned down a client on my behalf."

My voice tightened.

"Graham, what exactly do you think I am?"

"Stop making me sound like an intruder." Offense spread across his face.

"I'm your husband. I have a responsibility to keep you from hurting yourself and our child because of one impulsive decision."

My phone rang.

I answered immediately.

The project manager confirmed that Graham had told the investment manager I was emotionally unstable and might stop working for an extended period.

They had worked together before. The man had trusted Graham to know my condition.

"Have I ever failed to deliver a project?" I asked.

"Never. But the review is over, and the contract has already been sent."

I closed my eyes. It took several seconds to find my voice again.

Then I asked him to confirm Graham's statements in writing.

After the call ended, the kitchen fell silent except for the faint ticking of the cooling pan.

I had spent seven months preparing that proposal. Every site visit and every drawing revised late into the night had been erased by one phone call from my husband.

My fingers had turned white around my phone.

When Graham saw my face, his voice softened.

"There will be other projects. Right now, you and the baby matter more."

I shoved the dining chair back.

"You used my pregnancy and my mental health to ruin my professional reputation, and you expect me to thank you?"

His expression hardened.

"If you had agreed to slow down and rest, I wouldn't have needed to interfere."

I looked at the certainty on his face, and the last of my hope sank out of reach.

"For ten months, I handled Brynn's appointments, medication, insurance, and overnight care. Starting today, all of it belongs to you."

Brynn's head snapped up. Tears filled her eyes.

"This is because of me again. As long as I stay here, she'll hate me."

"This does involve you."

I turned toward her.

"You can keep the nursery. I'm leaving."

Graham strode in front of me. Panic finally showed on his face.

"You're pregnant, and you just lost your job. Where are you going to go? Don't threaten to leave just to force me to give in."

Brynn grabbed his arm, her voice trembling.

"If Marlowe leaves because of me, I don't want to live anymore."

Graham immediately turned and pulled her into his arms. The panic on his face shifted into anger at me.

I opened the discharge documents from the previous day.

"The crisis center's number is on the first page. She has expressed suicidal thoughts again. You can contact the professionals, or you can monitor her according to the doctor's instructions."

He stared at me in disbelief.

"She just said she doesn't want to live, and you can't even comfort her?"

"I comforted her for ten months. It's her brother's turn."

"You couldn't even take care of Brynn. How are you supposed to take care of our child?"

My hand suddenly went slack.

The phone struck the counter with a dull thud.

I looked at the man who had waited four years for this child with me.

His eyes held nothing except blame. There was no trace of remorse.

"I'll remember you said that."

That afternoon, I went to see the apartment.

It was small, though the south-facing bedroom had a clean window.

Sunlight lay across the empty wooden floor. Standing there, I realized I did not have to consider whether Brynn would like it or wait for Graham's approval.

I reviewed my savings, insurance costs, and the two smaller contracts my studio still had. Then I signed a one-year lease and paid the security deposit and first month's rent.

The payment consumed most of my emergency savings. The hotel project was gone, and I needed a new source of steady income before the baby arrived.

That evening, I returned home and packed my identification documents, computer, prenatal medication, and three suitcases of clothes.

I placed the red care binder in the center of the dining table.

The medication list, doctors' numbers, insurance documents, and date of Brynn's next appointment were all filed under the correct sections.

When Graham saw the suitcases, the color slowly drained from his face.

"You're really leaving?"

He grabbed the handle of one suitcase. I knocked his hand away.

"If you leave Brynn with me, who's supposed to watch her tonight?" His breathing quickened.

"I have a meeting tomorrow."

I met his eyes.

"I was supposed to have work today."

His lips parted, but no words came out.

The key to my new apartment was closed inside my palm. The silver hummingbird rested in my bag.

I slapped the spare nursery key onto the red binder.

"You said taking care of her was easy. This house and your sister are your responsibility now."

"I'm done taking care of all of you."